


Still Dreaming

by orphan_account



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: F/M, Post Season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 11:46:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3727669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>there's nothing straightforward about a new romance. rae and finn take their first steps together, with no small share of blunders and setbacks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Still Dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> This was written two years ago in 2013, before the second season aired. So, obviously, no longer canon.

Rae thought she was still dreaming when her window creaked open, followed by the soft thump of feet on the carpet. She began to roll over when she felt her bed dip and sat bolt upright in alarm. “Fuckin’ hell!” 

“Alright?” said Finn, looking a bit smug. 

“You – you came through my window,” she sputtered. 

“D’you mind?” 

“Course not. I just – weren’t you s’posed to be out with Chop tonight?” she said, scrubbing at her eyes and feeling the sudden rush of warmth that turned her stomach to butterflies whenever he came near. 

“I did. But I sorta, well, missed you. An’ stuff.” He grinned, shrugging a little bit. 

“My mum and Karim are asleep down the hall,” she scolded, unconvincingly. “Your bike’s not out front, is it?” 

“That’s not giving me much credit, is it?”

“Cheeky bastard,” Rae whispered. She adjusted her nightdress against her shoulders and saw his eyes follow the movement. It was enough to make her blush. “You staying the night, then?” she asked, wincing when her voice squeaked a little. Finn smiled widely, his eyes crinkling up. “Well, take your boots off, then,” she said, talking to cover up the furious tattoo her heart was beating against her ribs, which she was sure he could hear in the quiet. She watched him wrestle his boots off, back to her, and bit at her thumbnail as he took off his jacket, the muscles of his shoulders contracting against his t-shirt. Is he going to take off his shirt, she wondered, or am I s’posed to do that for him? What about his jeans? Are they going to come off, too? This last thought brought with it such a heady mixture of anxiety and anticipation that she had to remind herself to breathe. 

It had been two weeks since the wedding. Two weeks of hands held under tables, of messages traced on palms and thighs, of kisses – first shy and chaste, then increasingly urgent – stolen in doorways and alleys, of Finn’s hand plucking at the neck of her shirt, of - … But Rae had a new stepfather to get to know, and additional sessions with Kester, and the short of it was that they hadn’t been properly alone, not for any length of time. They’d listened to records in his room yesterday, and after he’d changed the record he took her hand and traced “I W-A-N-T” against her skin and nibbled at her neck, but then Chop had barged in and put an end to things. 

She felt Finn’s eyes on her and dragged herself back into the present. “What you thinkin’ of?” he asked. 

“What you thinkin’ of?” she deflected. Finn smiled and pressed his forefinger against her bare arm. She shivered and he smirked a little, writing “K-I-S-S-I-N-G Y-O-U.” 

“You want to?” she asked, the self-deprecating question slipping out before she could stop it. “Course I do,” Finn said, furrowing his brow. “Don’t you want me to kiss you?” She nodded fervently. It was stupid, how being in her room, in her bed, in the dark, made everything so – different. But Finn seemed to feel it, too, because he was carefully deliberate in his actions, folding his jacket and setting it next to his boots on the floor and then turning back the duvet cover to slip in alongside her. Now the length of his body was pressed up against hers, his leg sliding between hers. She caught her breath. He trailed his fingers along her neck and turned her face towards his. He had that slightly cross-eyed look that meant he was about to – Rae felt anticipation everywhere, in her hair, in her skin, in her lips, between her – Oh. 

His mouth brushed gently over hers, just the slightest impression of a kiss before moving back, and she found herself pulling at his shirt, his hair, desperate to bring him back. She heard him chuckle before he pressed his lips back against hers in a shallow, aching kiss that pulsed through her whole body. He tasted like cigarettes and alcohol, like the song, and… Rae brought her hands up into his hair and felt his tongue trace the line of her upper lip. They were both breathing heavily now, lower and deeper, and when he kissed her again it was with greater intimacy than she could have imagined. His hand cradled her head and he plunged his tongue into her mouth with a ferocity that made her arch against him. 

Not breaking the kiss, Finn slid her down on the bed and rolled on top of her, covering her body with his. When they had to stop kissing to breathe – Rae’s came in short rattling gasps and she felt Finn’s heart pounding against her – he eased his warm hand inside the neck of her nightdress and around her back, raising a fiery trail on her skin. 

She tensed. She had never been touched under her clothes before; the fumbles with Archie happened above her shirt and jeans. Rae didn’t know if she ought to stop him and tell him this is where her experience ended – but Finn seemed to read it in her eyes because his hand went still against her back and he raised himself up on his elbow. “Is it alright?” he whispered. “Or d’you want me to stop?” His voice vibrated in her ear and sent shivers down her spine. “No,” she breathed, “don’t stop…” 

Finn buried his face in her neck, and his hand slipped round to cover her breast. 

The door down the hall creaked open and they both froze at the sound of footsteps. Scarcely daring to breathe they heard the door to the loo shut, Rae acutely conscious of Finn’s hand still cupping her breast. They giggled, silently, Rae feeling Finn’s smile against her collarbone, listening to Karim take a noisy piss. They didn’t move until the toilet flushed, the footsteps retreated, and the door shut. 

Amazed at her own bravery, Rae reached round to pull the shirt over Finn’s head. It got tangled in his earring, his hair, and they were both heaving with silent laughter again when he was finally free of it. Rae pressed her hands against his chest – he was finally hers to touch, skin taut over muscles, this was the way his chest felt, his stomach, the tiny hairs at the waist of his jeans – 

Finn stiffened. She looked up and saw his eyes were black and glittering in the moonlight pouring in from the open window. “Finn…” she whispered. He was breathing heavily as he caught her hand and held it away from his body. 

“Fuck, Rae, let me do something, please let me do something for you – ”

His voice was ragged and uneven and she dug her nails into his back. He groaned and grabbed her firmly by the hips to bring their bodies flush against each other. “What d’you like?” he whispered in her ear. 

“Finn, I – I don’t know – ”

He blew hot air against her cheek. “What d’you think you like?” 

His eyes were so dark and determined that she had to look away, shifting slightly. “I don’t know,” she repeated miserably. “No one’s ever made me come before, I don’t know what – ”

“But you’ve made yourself come, yeah?” Finn said, his voice husky. 

When Rae had made herself come, it was to a fantasy involving Finn dressed in a helmet, breastplate, and leather skirt. She didn’t know if now was the time to explain that, so she just nodded, blushing furiously and fixing her gaze over Finn’s shoulder at a picture of Jarvis Cocker. 

“Hey, you gotta look at me – ” With an effort she wrenched her eyes back to him. “You – fuck… you fuckin’ turn me on so much,” he said in a rush. “You could make me come without fuckin’ touchin’ me, Rae, I swear. I wanna make you – ”

“You don’ have to touch me,” Rae said hastily. She knew her body was an imposition, something unsightly best kept under layers of clothing, he was being polite, he couldn’t possibly want to –

Finn slid his hands up her thighs, gentle over the scars, under her nightdress to grasp the waistband of her knickers. Rae scarcely had time to register what he was doing when he pulled her knickers down in a smooth movement. He sucked hard at her shoulder, his fingers trailing circles on her inner thighs, closer and closer to – 

“You don’ have to,” she breathed, breath hitching in her throat. “You don’ have to – ”

“You’re tryna kill me, Rae – shit! I wanna make you come… I’m gonna – tell me what you like, what feels alright, so’s next time you can boss me – ” He urged her legs apart with his hand. She nearly cried out when he finally touched her and Finn swallowed her noise with his mouth against hers. “Shh, shh,” he mumbled into her mouth. Rae scarcely heard him. “Are my fingers alright?” he asked a moment later. “Not too rough, or – ”

“Shh, Finn, shut the fuck up – ”

He shuddered against her, fingers still moving. Dizzily, Rae reached up to fumble with his belt, but Finn stopped her with his free hand. “Next time,” he gasped. “Now – for you – ”

In a soft whisper against her ear, he began to tell her what he was doing to her, asking her what felt good, what didn’t – to Rae it all felt good, fucking brilliant, but Finn wouldn’t take that, he demanded more, until Rae was frantically tracing words on his back: “Y-E-S” “T-H-E-R-E” “M-O-R-E” “F-I-N-N” – Her hips strained against him and his were moving too, even though he wasn’t on top of her now, but lying beside her, propped on one elbow. His eyes were black with – something – as they bored into hers, and when she came against him she thought she would drown in them. 

They held each other quietly afterwards, feeling their heart rates slowly return to normal. Finn looked at her, smiling. “I liked makin’ you come,” he said. Rae smiled back, wrinkling her nose at him. He squinted back and added wickedly, “I never heard me name so many times.”

“Cheeky,” Rae whispered back. But then a sobering thought crossed her and she bit her lip. “Not even from the others? Other girls – ”

“Never from the others,” he reassured her. “An’ I weren’t sayin’ theirs, either, not like I say yours.”

“I wanna make you come, too,” Rae said a few minutes later. “Fair’s fair.” 

“We’re not keepin’ score, Rae.” 

“I want to,” she said. “But I’ve never done that either – you’ll have to show me - ”

So he did.


	2. Strange Interludes

“And you actually came?” demanded Chloe, her beautiful eyes wide. 

“Uh, yeah. Dur,” Rae said. She glanced around the café to make sure no one was listening and lowered her voice. “It was brilliant, my head just sort of exploded. I mean, I didn’t see stars or anything, but my hands and feet felt like they were floating away from my body. Was it the same for you?” she asked. 

“More or less.” Chloe picked at her nail a moment. “I just can’t believe you actually came.” 

“Why’s that such a surprise to you? It’s fucking Finn. Of course I came. Like the Charge of the bloody Light Brigade.” 

“Nah, it’s just that…” Chloe hesitated. “Well, it’s easier for boys. Girls, it’s more complicated. We’re more complex. They can’t just stick their fingers up there and make it happen. It needs –”

“Finesse.” Rae snorted. “Finn’s got finesse.” 

“Well, sure.” Rae looked at her sharply. “I’m not saying from experience,” Chloe amended hastily. “So you felt all floaty?” 

“Something like that. But why d’you want to know? You’ve had loads of orgasms.” 

“Yeah, loads.” Chloe looked down. 

“Haven’t you?” Rae pressed. 

Chloe was silent a moment, staring down at her clasped hands. “Alright then, I haven’t!” she exclaimed suddenly. 

Rae looked at her in amazement. “But Chloe…” she began, and then stopped. “So all those times you said - ”

“I was lying, alright!” Chloe snapped. “I’ve never had one. Ever. Not from anything a bloke’s done to me, nor sex neither. There, you happy? You beat me Rae, you got there first.” 

The tiny, awful voice in Rae’s head, the voice that could never resist a comparison between her and Chloe, the voice that usually found her wanting, and hopeless, and desperate, managed a muffled yelp of astonished victory before Rae blocked it out. To think she had actually passed through one gateway before Chloe – well before Chloe, by the sound of it – but no, Chloe looked miserable and the tiny voice relented. Rae reached across the table and took one of Chloe’s hands in hers. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. 

“It does, though,” Chloe insisted. “It means that Stephen, or any of the others – none of them cared enough to see that I got mine – s’long as they got theirs, it was enough.” 

“You deserve better Chlo,” Rae said, meaning it. “If Stephen was too thick to figure out how a girl works, he’s more of a fuckin’ knobhhead than I thought. But forget him,” she went on brightly. “You can always do it to yourself, y’know.”

“Oh, no.” Chloe looked shocked. “I couldn’t. I couldn’t possibly. I wouldn’t know where…”

“Got a book I could loan you.” 

“Nah,” said Chloe. “I got my eye on one of Chop’s mates from the garage, and I’m sure he’ll be loads better at sex than Stephen. I’ll have a proper orgasm in no time.” 

“Right,” said Rae. “I’m just sayin’ that… well, Finn wanted me to know what I liked.” 

“Yeah, well…” Chloe hesitated. “You’re really lucky, Rae.” 

“Yeah,” said Rae, who thought of it constantly, without ever thinking Finn might be lucky too. “S’pose I am.” 

“You must’ve done a good job with him, for him to be so eager to get you off,” Chloe said appreciatively. 

“Nah,” said Rae. “I haven’t actually. I mean, I was going to, I’d started and all after he did me, but then my mom – ”

*

“We’re not keepin’ score, Rae,” Finn said, holding her hands tightly. For all the heady arousal that had him practically cross-eyed with need, he was looking at her steadily, seriously. 

“I want to,” Rae insisted. “But I’ve never done that either – you’ll have to show me – ”

“Rae – ” he began, but he never finished the thought because she had wormed her hand under the waist of his jeans, and then his boxers and – 

Hearing Finn’s sharp intake of breath, watching his eyelids grow heavy, Rae felt a powerful wave of tenderness move through her. That she, that her touch – she wasn’t even moving her hand at all yet – could do that to him… It was an extraordinary feeling. His belt was cutting off the circulation in her wrist. With her free hand, she clumsily managed to undo the belt along with – and accompanied by much struggling – the button and zipper of his jeans. “Is that alright?” she whispered. “Finn, I want to - ”

Finn put his hand over hers and gently began to guide it in slow, languorous strokes. They were practically nose to nose and she felt his ragged breath on her face, coming in gasps until he buried his face in the crook of her neck. He was clutching at the fabric of her night dress and Rae suddenly realized that she was moving her hand alone, she was doing it by herself and he liked it. She felt the sweat beading on his forehead, on his chest, and he was thrusting into her hand, murmuring her name and tracing scrawled words on any bit of her skin he could reach, maybe they said “R-A-E,” or “L-O-V-E” or perhaps nothing coherent at all -”

“RACHEL EARL!” They froze. “RACHEL EARL!” her mum’s voice came again. Terror, terror – did she know Finn was in there with her, could she possibly know what they were doing, was she about to walk in – Finn was impossibly tense and hard under her hand, practically vibrating with – 

“YOU LEFT ALL THE DISHES IN THE SINK AFTER I SPECIFICALLY ASKED YOU TO CLEAN THE KITCHEN!” her Mum shouted. 

“Mum, it’s not half-six!” Rae called back, her voice breaking. Finn sagged against her with a stifled groan.

“If you’d done it when I asked you I wouldn’t have to wake you!” her Mum bellowed. 

“Ah, shit,” Finn whispered. “I should go.” 

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” Rae moaned. “She’s a total nightmare -”

“Nah, s’all right,” Finn said, quickly doing up his jeans. “I’ve got one hell of a stiffy though-”

“RACHEL EARL!” 

“Mum! I’m coming!” She accompanied Finn to the window as he tried to adjust the bulge that was ballooning the front of his pants. “Sorry, sorry, sorry…”

Finn kissed her hard and she thought he might have winked before he was scrambling out the window. He landed with a soft thump in the bushes and, looking up, gave her a rueful grin and a wave before setting off down the street touched with the first blush of sunlight. Rae watched him for as long as she could – he was walking slightly bowlegged, she had to laugh – before her mum shouted again and she sullenly made her way down to the kitchen. 

* 

“Fuckin’ hell, Rae,” Chloe said, her eyes like saucers. “That’s awful.” 

“I know,” Rae moaned, covering her face. “Don’t tell me. It was so embarrasin’ I thought I was gonna die.” 

“Did he feel cheated, d’you think?” Chloe asked. “I can’t believe you never finished him, they hate that, it feels really bad - ”

“D’you think he’s upset with me, then?” Rae said anxiously. 

“Well, I reckon you better make it up to him soon,” Chloe said, businesslike. “You should probably give him a blowjob, so’s he doesn’t -”

“A blowjob?” Rae said, too loudly, and the pimply bloke at the next table looked over in interest. “Fuck off,” Rae told him, but lowered her voice as she went on worriedly. “He said it wasn’t about keepin’ score - ”

“He might’ve said it to be nice and all, but it sort of is,” Chloe said. “He’ll think you don’t care enough. God, Stephen never even bothered to touch me until I’d gotten him off loads of times, and then it was just for a moment -”

“Stephen is a wanker,” Rae said firmly. “Forget him, Chloe.” 

But Rae didn’t forget Stephen, or more specifically she didn’t forget what Chloe had said about him. It is about keeping score. He’ll think you don’t care enough. It planted a seed of worry deep within her belly that put her off her breakfast. He’ll think you don’t care enough. She knew Chloe was Chloe and Chloe got funny ideas and that Finn was different, different, but – 

She imagined Finn’s long, uncomfortable walk home, imagined the resentments he must have felt, all because her stupid fucking mother – no, because she had left him like that… Was it as terrible as Chloe made it out to be? Had she done something awful? Did he hate her now? He must hate her now, he must be sitting at home hating her right now, or worse, planning to dump her. Ah, fuck. She was starting to sweat now, feeling ill and dizzy. 

“Rae? Rae?” Chloe waved her hand in front of her face. “You look all funny. What’s the matter?” 

Finn hates me. Finn hates me. 

“I need some air,” she said, and ran out of the café.


	3. High and Dry

Finn was presently on a bit of a Radiohead kick. His mates hadn’t really gotten into them yet, generally echoing NME’s judgment that they were a lily-livered excuse for a rock band. Archie, a purist, disliked Jonny Greenwood’s heavy guitar distortion, and Chop generally maintained that he much didn’t go in for music he couldn’t understand any of the words to. Finn, not being overly wrapped up in words anyway, didn’t mind, and rather liked the way all the syllables stretched and blurred together in Thom Yorke’s quavering falsetto. He also enjoyed the effort required to get into and understand a Radiohead song – it was like learning to read someone’s body language, or hear what they were saying when they weren’t saying anything, and Finn was much better at non-verbal communication than he had any right to be, moody bastard that he was. 

So when he walked home from Rae’s in the first light of sunrise, down the empty streets, he hummed “My Iron Lung” under his breath to distract himself from the raging erection she’d left him with – her and her big, round eyes, her long dark, hair, her full, kissable lips – but fuck, no, that line of thought wasn’t helping, and Finn hastily dragged his mind back to the music as people started to come out of their houses to collect the paper. What he liked about Radiohead, he decided, was how Thom sang an octave above all the churning, synthed-out guitars, which made it all less bombastic than all the chest-beating noise personified by Liam Gallagher, who he thought was a bit of a twat, really. 

With long-practiced stealth, he unlocked his front door and crept up the stairs to his room. He knew which steps creaked and which ones didn’t and managed to lock his door behind him without incident. He put on The Bends and fidgeted round a bit before deciding there was no help for it. When he finally got round to masturbating the irony of the song “High and Dry” coming on didn’t escape him. 

Don't leave me high, don't leave me dry  
Don't leave me high, don't leave me dry

Drying up in conversation   
You will be the one who cannot talk  
All your insides fall to pieces  
You just sit there wishing you could still make love

Finn could never help but find his own life embedded in the music he listened to, and this was no exception. It was never just the words, either, but the mournful longing in the melody, or how plain fucking horny Jarvis Cocker sounded on Different Class. And now that he was in love, he felt compelled to revisit everything, looking for clues. ‘Cos he was in love, there was no doubt of that, the certainty came from how unprecedented the whole thing was – the twisting up of his insides, the inability to flirt properly, the stupid smiles he couldn’t keep off his face. There was nothing calculated about love, it just sort of was, and you eased into it like a warm bath. 

That was one version of it, anyway. The other was a bit more complicated, the one where he couldn’t find the right words and said stupid things to fill the silence. The one where he loved her so much it was a physical pain in his chest, banging against his ribs in tandem with his heart. The one where she had scars on her legs and sometimes went so far away he could scarcely see her anymore. Ultimately it was this side of love that mattered more, and sometimes he was afraid of it. But Finn had always charged his fears head on, jumping off the roof in primary school to conquer heights, and bluffing through the awkwardness of first time sex to convince an older girl that, yeah, he’d done it before. 

And that was the other thing that dried up his words and shattered his insides. He’d never done it with anyone he loved before. He’d taken a fellow sixth-former’s virginity last year and she’d cried the first time and yelled at him for spotting her sheets with cum. But the awful guilt he’d felt when her eyes filled with tears, or the rush of getting off with a fit in girl in the supply cabinet at school – none of it seemed adequate preparation for what he was currently fantasizing about doing with Rae. For the first time in his adolescent life Finn sort of wished he was a virgin too, just so they could cross that bridge together, but the fact was that he wasn’t and hadn’t been for some time and that meant he had rather a lot of responsibility to her. To make sure her first time was right, that she wasn’t scared, that… It was bloody nerve-racking, love. 

He thought about ripping her clothes off her, something she refused to let him do, blushing furiously as she moved his fingers away from buttons and zippers. She’d never before let him touch her the way she had that morning, and remembering the press of her breasts against his chest, the warmth of her under his hand, the feeling of her hand on him, he came so violently he saw spots and had to lean back against the pillows to steady himself. 

Everything was new where Rae was concerned. Fuck, he couldn’t even have a wank without wanting to cry for how much he loved her. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to breathe normally as the next song came on. 

She looks like the real thing  
She tastes like the real thing… 

Whenever Chloe started fancying a new bloke, she’d sit down at the pub and say, “Lads, I think this is, like, the real thing,” and Finn would roll his eyes and excuse himself for a fag so he wouldn’t have to listen to the rest of it. He’d never thought much about what was real and what wasn’t. Sticking his tongue in someone’s mouth and copping a feel felt real enough at the time, and he never thought much about what it meant afterwards. But now he seemed to do nothing but think and there was no “like” in the equation when it came to Rae. No similes, no metaphors, it just was. Was the real thing. 

He couldn’t sit still. His whole body was vibrating with nervous energy, out of sync with the music and the sleepy quiet enveloping the house. Giving up, he put on a pair of shorts and laced up his trainers and left again, not bothering to be quiet this time. He ran fast, too buzzed to pace himself properly, and felt a tightness in his lungs by the second hill. Too many fucking fags, a casual vice become a nervous habit since Rae entered his life and turned everything upside down. But the harder his muscles worked the slower his mind went, and soon he was able to think clearly again. 

His parents were worried about him, that much was certain. He hadn’t told them about Rae, not explicitly anyway, they knew there was a new girl in his life but there were always girls in Finn’s life. He didn’t know how to tell them that this one was different, this one was special, this one was real, and the dreaded words he was in love. Not that they’d take the piss out of him or anything, but his dad might laugh a bit and his mum would tell him he had a long way to go before he could talk about love. And of course the bruised and bloody knuckles he brought home after punching the kid harassing Rae, something he’d refused to discuss with his anxious parents. There’d been a few other minor scuffles over the past two weeks with lads who thought they might get a bit fresh when they saw him and Rae together, cunts who thought they had the right to remark that she must be a great lay, or give exceptional head. Finn did his best to keep this from Rae, who would’ve been mortified, telling her instead that his bruises and scrapes were the usual knocks and bumps from playing footie in the park. 

But his parents, they didn’t buy that. Finn had got into quite a bit of trouble in secondary school for brawling, put in detention several times and once even suspended. His teachers called home wondering how such a decent lad, who was polite to adults and got good marks, could have such a difficult time controlling his temper. But Finn couldn’t brush off the things that others laughed at, getting immediately combative if someone had a go at his mum, or if one of the older boys started jeering if they spotted him out to tea with his Nan. Finn didn’t know why, either, except that sometimes he got so angry that his brain fogged up and he just reacted, usually by driving his fist into someone’s jaw. But he’d been on his best behavior since entering sixth form, turning all his assignments in on time and only getting detention once for cussing off a mate within earshot of a teacher. Now that the fights had started again his folks were alert and watchful, wondering if he was getting out of control again. He didn’t know how they’d take it if he explained he was fighting to defend a girl’s honor. Put that way it sounded so poncy and chivalric, and Finn never thought of himself as heroic. He just reacted. 

He was coming round to the last leg of his route now, beaded with sweat and every breath sending a stabbing pain through his side. His thoughts roamed now to his Nan, gone almost a month now. Her memory made his throat tighten and, picking up his pace even more, Finn told himself it was just sweat stinging his eyes. That was the other thing about Rae. He hadn’t cried in front of anyone for years, probably almost a decade, and certainly never in front of a girl. But thinking back to Rae putting her arms around him, and how he had buried his face in her shoulder and just stopped fighting – oddly, he didn’t feel any shame about it, just another wave of affection for Rae so powerful that his body tingled. 

He came to a halt in front of his house, bending forward to rest his hands on his knees and breathing so heavily he thought he might be sick. The sun had come up and it was another stifling, end of summer day where everything rippled, mirage-like, with humidity. When he felt better he went back inside and, reassured that his parents were still moving around upstairs, picked up the phone. 

Rae’s mum answered, sounding tired and cranky, but she warmed up considerably when he said his name. “Ah, Finn,” Mrs. Earl said significantly. “Rachel’s still asleep, but I’ll have her on the line in a moment.” 

“Nah, don’t bother waking her – ” Finn began hastily, but he could already hear Mrs. Earl bawling at the top of her lungs, “RACHEL EARL! FINN’S ON THE PHONE!” He winced. A few moments later he heard Rae’s intake of breath. “Hi.” She sounded sleepy, but also nervous, which perturbed him but he decided to write it off because her mum was probably standing there listening. 

“Come round to mine this afternoon, yeah?” he offered. “We can go to the park or summat.” 

“Sure,” Rae said after a beat. “Cool. I’d like that.” 

She sounded a bit funny, but Finn had never been keen on talking on the phone either. “Right, is three alright?” 

They agreed and hung up. Trying to put her strangeness out of his head, Finn went upstairs for a shower.


	4. Made of Stone

Rae and Finn never made it to the park. 

Rae seemed tense when she came round his house and Finn, for his part, was still feeling on edge and could practically hear his nerves jangling beneath his skin. They were both out of sorts, and Rae wouldn’t meet his eyes when he asked her how she was. “Whatsa matter?” he tried, but she gave him a wide-eyed, falsely bright “Nothing,” and he shrugged, not in the mood to argue with her. Finn, of course, knew nothing of the conversation with Chloe that was spinning madly inside Rae’s brain. He thinks I don’t care enough. He hates me. What if he’s only asked me round to break up with me? That’s what this ‘walk in the park’ is for, isn’t it? So he can let me down gently. Because I’m shite at sex and haven’t got a clue what I’m doing. I disgust him. He thinks I don’t care enough. It’s over. Rae saw the past few weeks of happiness evaporate before her eyes, to be replaced by something cold and hard and dead that was even worse than before because now she knew what it was like to kiss Finn and touch Finn and be touched by Finn and she would never be able to un-know it. 

Finn kicked at gravel as they walked, scuffing his battered trainers into the dirt and moodily lighting a cigarette. He’d already disregarded the resolution from a few hours previous to cut back and took a kind of vindictive pleasure from the heaviness that settled over his lungs. Get it together, he told himself. Stop acting like such a fucking twat. This is Rae. Rae. But she wasn’t helping either, staring at the ground and remaining uncharacteristically silent. When was Rae ever at a loss for words? Something must be bothering her, he realized, but his words were even more stifled and jammed up than usual and he couldn’t find the ones he needed to ask. Everything much was new these days, the sickening plunges of grief, the like of which he’d never felt before, and euphoric highs of being in love, and placed in such close proximity – well, Finn felt like he was running to catch up with how fast the world was spinning. 

Unable to find the words, Finn gave up and let his infinitely more articulate hands do the talking. He draped an arm around Rae and started to doodle nonsense on the sleeve of her jacket. To his annoyance she started and froze, shooting him a look of surprise. What’s she surprised for? Finn thought angrily. I’m her bloody boyfriend. Thought I was allowed to touch her. His irritation was mounting so quickly he thought the words might just burst out of him anyway, like they did that night in the closet at her sexy party, but something else happened instead. 

“Alright, Finn?”

They both looked up, Finn with his arm still around the unresponsive Rae. It was some bloke he knew vaguely from sixth form and football in the park, a heavyset, muscular prick who was always taking the piss out of younger kids. Finn jerked his head noncommittally. “Gordon,” he grunted, his hand tightening unconsciously around Rae’s shoulder until she flinched and shrugged him off. Finn had a sinking sensation in his stomach and thought he knew what was coming. 

“Who’s this, then?” Gordon asked, leering nastily. “Your girlfriend, is she?” 

Rae knew what was coming too. Say no, she prayed. Just say no. You’ll dump me anyway. Just say no. 

But Finn didn’t pick up on her frantic attempts at telepathy because he grasped her shoulder again and said to Gordon, with a calmness that defied the pressure of his grip on her, “Yeah. She is.” 

Gordon smiled with undisguised delight. “Well that gives you two options, then, doesn’t it, Nelson?” he announced. “Either you’re a gayer and got this cow to cover for ya, or else you’ve got a taste for – ”

Rae didn’t realize Finn had let go of her until she saw Finn wrench Gordon forward by the neck of his shirt and punch him squarely in the jaw. It was like the scene with Big G all over again, but this time there was no pathetic squeal of pain or panicked, babbling apologies. Bleeding from the mouth Gordon had steadied himself against a tree and was moving forward, taking a vicious swing at Finn. Finn dodged it but Gordon was on him, delivering a right hook to Finn’s stomach that doubled him over, clutching his belly and gasping for breath. And then Gordon balled his fist and chopped down at the back of Finn’s neck, but Finn darted out of the way just in time and tackled Gordon around the ankles. They toppled to the pavement in a heap. 

“You sick cunt,” Rae heard Finn gasp. “Take it back or I’ll fucking kill you.” 

Rae found her voice at last. “Stop!” she cried shrilly. “Stop it! That’s enough! Finn, please - ”

But neither boy paid her any heed. Finn rammed his head into Gordon’s stomach and pinned him to the ground. “Apologise,” he demanded hoarsely. “Apologise, or - ” Gordon was bucking frantically to get out from under Finn and Rae could see the muscles in both boys’ arms straining as they fought against each other. 

“You bent piece of shit!” Gordon bellowed, and suddenly he was on top, forcing Finn against the pavement, but Finn was writhing madly and now they were both on their feet again, squaring off again. 

Rae had had enough. She marched up to them and made to pull Finn back, but Finn had already pulled his arm back and threw his punch anyway. He had been aiming for Gordon’s throat, but he caught Rae in the shoulder instead. 

Rae was not made of glass, but she was certainly not made to withstand a punch from a boy who had been playing sports and brawling in back alleys for much of his life. Rae felt her left arm drop limply to her side and a searing pain took up residence in her shoulder, throbbing insistently. Abruptly she sat down on the ground, too dizzy to keep her balance, and as she dropped Finn’s pale, horrified face swam into view. 

Gordon seemed very far away now. Finn was now crouching at her side, his fingers hovering over her shoulder. He was shaking so badly that he could hardly keep his balance. Blood was pouring from a cut over his cheekbone and a split in his lip, and his knuckles were scraped raw. “I’m so sorry – fuckin’ hell, I’m so sorry-”

Dimly, Rae saw Gordon take off, limping away from them as fast as he could. Finn’s eyes were burning in his pale, gory face and he looked as if he would be ill. “Rae, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Shit – fuck - ”

Rae pressed her lips together and stifled a moan when he probed at her injured shoulder with his fingers. She was too dazed to protest when he slid her jacket over her arms and pulled her shirt away, baring her shoulder. He hissed through his teeth at what Rae had to assume was a spectacularly blooming bruise. She was so dizzy. There was blood everywhere – on him, on her, speckling the ground with garish crimson drops. 

“Can you stand?” Finn asked. He helped her to her feet and at first Rae thought she would be sick from the pain but then her stomach steadied and she stood upright, clinging to him for balance. “Oh god, oh fuck,” Finn was whispering. “I hit you. I’ve never fucking hit a girl before. And I hit you. Oh fuck Rae, I’m so, so - ”

“Stop apologising,” Rae said fuzzily. Her tongue felt thick and heavy, but the ache in her shoulder was subsiding to something she could think past. “That was a very stupid thing to do,” she told Finn. “Getting in a fight.” 

“He insulted you,” Finn growled, keeping a firm arm around her waist as he dashed blood from his eyes and pushed back his fringe, which was stiff with still more blood. “Had to wallop him.” 

“You don’t owe me - ”

“Tha’s not true and you know it!” Finn snapped. “You’re my girlfriend an’ he mugged you off.” 

“But,” said Rae, who was feeling dizzy not just from her injury but from Finn declaring that she was his girlfriend twice in the space of five minutes – maybe he wasn’t going to break up with her after all, even though he’d made her come and she hadn’t made him come, maybe – “But,” she tried again. 

“No buts,” Finn said firmly. “Can ya walk?” 

Rae found that she could, the words “you’re my girlfriend” doing far more than any paracetamol ever could. Slowly they retraced their steps back to his house. Finn was considerably worse off than she was, looking like a figure out of a horror movie with all his blood and gore, and Rae hurried him along, shielding him as best she could from the curious eyes of passersby. Twice they had to stop for him to vomit. By the time they reached his house Rae was dreading the inevitable confrontation with his parents. Things couldn’t have looked worse. 

To her dismay Finn’s dad was sitting there in the kitchen when they came through the door. He had been reading the newspaper but dropped it with a shout when he saw them. Finn held up his hands to fend him off. “S’nothin,” he said, trying to discreetly spit a bit of blood into his hand but missing, and instead it dribbled down his chin. 

“Finn – Rae – what the hell happened -” Mr. Nelson didn’t seem to know where to look, his eyes darting from Rae’s shoulder to Finn’s blood to Finn’s blood on Rae and back to Finn. “You need to go to hospital,” he said urgently. “I’ll get some towels, and then we’ll drive - ”

“Dad, cut it out, nothing’s broken,” Finn growled. 

“Finn,” Mr. Nelson began, but things were about to get a lot worse. 

“What’s that?” Finn asked, indicating an elaborate silver urn sitting atop the bureau. 

“That’s – that’s your Nan,” Mr. Nelson said nervously. 

“What the flying fuck is she doing in there?” Finn exploded. “I thought she were gonna be buried with Grandad, in the ground, with like a proper funeral, not put in a foul fucking vase - ”

“She didn’t want a ceremony,” Mr. Nelson said gently. “She outlived all of her friends and we’re her only surviving family. This way we can all decide together what to do with her - ”

But Finn had seized the nearest thing that came to hand, a china plate on the table, and violently flung it against the wall. It shattered on the impact and shards of broken pottery rained down to the floor. And then he stormed from the room and they heard him charge up the stairs and slam the door to his room shut behind him. 

Mr. Nelson looked at her helplessly. “Rae – can you tell me…” 

“Got in a fight with some bloke from school,” Rae said guardedly, desperate not to get Finn in trouble. “It’s worse than it looks-” Fuck. “I mean, it looks worse than it is.” 

“Did Finn start it?” Mr. Nelson demanded. 

“Erm,” Rae said cagily, and decided to lie a bit. “Nah. He was provoked, Mr. Nelson.” 

Mr. Nelson suddenly looked very tired and very anxious and Rae was desperate to get away from him and his questions. “Look,” she said, “I’d best go up and check on him, yeah? He’s upset – about, um…” she gestured vaguely at the urn. “I’ll just go up now, shall I?” 

Mr. Nelson looked at her opaquely for a minute and Rae squirmed, but apparently he found whatever he had been looking for in her face because he nodded. “I’ll get some…” he bustled off and Rae stood there, trying to rotate her rapidly stiffening shoulder. 

Apparently injuries were not uncommon in the Nelson household, for Mr. Nelson returned shortly thereafter armed with several damp towels, gauze, a bottle of disinfectant, and a container of pain killers, which he loaded wordlessly into Rae’s arms. With a nod of thanks Rae turned and began to ascend the stairs. Her heart was in her throat and she was afraid of how she would find him. 

She didn’t bother to knock on the closed door but quietly let herself in. Finn was lying on his back in the bed, his brow furrowed and his eyes trained on the ceiling. He blinked slowly and he seemed, Rae saw with some relief, to be alive, at least. Cautiously she sat next to him and put her hand on her forehead and stroked his hair, clumped with mud and sweat. He tried to smile but the cut in his lip opened again. “Don’t move,” she ordered. Moving clumsily, but as gently as she could, she used the damp towels to clean the blood from his face, hands, and hair. Rae had never liked blood much and its metallic smell could make her nauseous, but today she didn’t notice, so intent was she on mopping Finn up. Finn looked up at her as she worked and his eyes were rueful, guilty, but she smacked him gently every time he looked like he was about to speak. He flinched when she dabbed disinfectant on his cuts and scrapes but didn’t make a sound, and Rae applied bandages as best she could. She fed him several paracetamol with the glass of stale water sitting next to the bed before taking one herself. When she was done he grasped her hand and traced on her palm, “I-M S-O-R-R-Y.” 

“It’s all right,” she told him. “I’m fine. I’ve got a high tolerance for pain, anyway.” He didn’t look particularly reassured by that so she went on. “I’m not angry with ya, Finn.” 

“Why were you all funny?” he whispered, talking out of one side of his mouth so as not to reopen the cut on his lip. “Earlier, before the fight?” 

“Oh,” Rae said, embarrassed. It seemed stupid to her now, but Finn had quirked an eyebrow and was obviously waiting for her to elaborate. “I thought… I thought you were gonna dump me,” she admitted. 

“Why the fuck would I dump you?” he demanded, almost insulted. 

“Cos…” she was blushing now but forced herself to go on. “Cos… you made me come last night, but then my mum – and I didn’t make you come, and I thought – Chloe said that would make you think I didn’t care, and I thought - ”

“Stupid,” Finn said affectionately, and that was that. Rae felt her chest loosen. “Rae – we got all the time in the world. You don’t – you don’t owe me anything, y’know. I just want to be with ya.” 

Rae kissed him, as gently as she possibly could, pulling away when Finn winced compulsively. “D’you…” she began hesitantly. “D’you want to talk about… you know. What just happened downstairs? Your Nan?” 

“Nah,” Finn said, his voice cracking a bit. “Can’t.” He squeezed her hand in apology and she didn’t press him, instead settling down on the bed facing him, her head resting against his chest. The rhythmic beat of his heart was just starting to lull her to sleep when she felt a change in his breathing. She opened her eyes and leaned on her elbow to look down at him. Finn’s jaw was clenched and his eyes were glassy, overbright. 

“Finn,” she said, “d’you need to…” He squeezed his eyes shut and turned over, pressing his face into the pillow. “Go on,” she said, resting a hand on his back as he moved uncomfortably. “Don’t fight. It’s me. Y’don’t have to pretend you’re made’ve stone around me.” He hesitated. “Go on.” His shoulders shuddered and Rae lay next to him again, her body pressed against his and her hand on his back. He let out several violent sobs and punched his pillow. Rae moved her hand down and under his shirt to massage his back, trying to knead out the tension. 

Finn jerked. “Don’t do that,” he gasped, shifting his head slightly and she saw a bit of his face, battered and tear-streaked. 

“Don’t do what?” she asked, trying not to be offended. 

“That…” Finn buried his face back in the pillow and shifted his hips restlessly. Rae understood, and blushed. “Oh,” she said, hastily retracting her hand. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s just… I don’t want to feel that way now,” he muttered. “Feels wrong. Wanting you when my Nan just – m’sorry. You can go if you want.” 

“No!” Rae said emphatically, forcibly turning him towards her and ignoring his grunt of surprise and pain. She kissed the tracks his tears had left on his face and caught the new ones trickling from under his lids with her tongue. “You know how I feel about you, don’t you?” She whispered. Finn nodded, then shook his head violently. Rae tugged at his hair and he moaned a bit, but not in pain. Maybe he knew how she felt, but he wasn’t saying. And opening her mouth Rae realized there weren’t really any words for how she felt, not even I love you. 

Finn’s tears dried, leaving his face stiff and salty. He sat up and pulled her up with him. His eyes were clear now when they met hers, and very quietly, very seriously, Finn used his words to tell her that he loved her. But Rae didn’t say it back, not just yet anyway. Instead she leaned in and, taking the initiative, kissed him as she had never kissed him before, lingeringly, with her mouth open against his. Finn kissed her back, his breath mingling with hers, and Rae felt the rest of the world dropping away from them. They sank back on the bed together and Rae put her arms around him and he buried his face against her breasts. His head was a comforting weight against her. His breath began to slow, taking on a sleepy regularity and Rae felt herself beginning to drift too until she jerked awake with a powerful sensation that she’d forgotten to do something. As soon as she looked down at Finn she remembered. “Finn?” she whispered. He opened his eyes, blinking at her and smiling endearingly. “I love you,” she told him.


	5. Walkaway

“So,” Kester began brightly, “How’s love? D’you still feel…?” 

“Sick,” Rae said enthusiastically. “Funny all the time. Like a helium balloon going up.” 

“Ah,” said Kester, waiting for her to elaborate. 

“It’s so bloody brilliant it feels like it’s happening to someone else.” 

“Not someone else,” he corrected gently. “You, Rae.” 

“Yeah, but sometimes…” she trailed off. 

“And you feel you’ve been able to communicate your needs?” Rae blushed a bit at needs, and Kester hastily rephrased the question, which made her blush more. “I mean, now that you’ve told everyone the truth, you’re able to talk openly with Finn?” 

“We talk about things. He’s still really cut up about his nan, and –”

“But I’m talking about you, Rae. Are you able to communicate when you’re sad, or if you’re upset, and does he – ”

“He knows,” Rae said. “Usually he knows before I tell him. I dunno. It’s like, you know, when people are good with horses they’re able to soothe the horse just by being there, or by touching it, and it goes all calm? That’s how it is. It’s like I’m the horse – ”

“I wish you’d come up with a better way of describing yourself,” Kester said. And then suddenly his whole posture changed and he leaned forward. “Rae,” he said, with deadly calm, “What the hell is that?” He indicated her shoulder. 

It was too warm in the office. A half-broken fan was whirring dejectedly in the corner and dying wasps droned against the window and it was all so stuffy that Rae had, unthinkingly, shrugged her shoulders out of her jacket and revealed the gigantic bruise that had bloomed crimson and plum across her skin. Now she hastily pulled it back on all the way and even zipped it up despite the heat. “Is this where I say I fell down?” she asked lightly. 

“Not to me,” Kester said sternly, folding his arms. “Well?” 

“We were in a bit of a fight,” she said, reluctantly. “Finn and me. Sometimes people will shout stuff at me, and then Finn’ll go for ‘em. I tell him not to, they’re just stupid tossers, but he won’t – ”

“One of the boys harassing you struck you?” Kester demanded. 

Rae considered a lie, it was even on the tip of her tongue, but when she spoke it was the truth that came out. “Nah, well… Finn were fighting this bloke, yeah, and it was going too far, turning into a proper fight and that, with blood going everywhere, and I didn’t want Finn to get hurt again so I tried to separate ‘em, and… I got in the way,” she finished lamely. 

“In the way of what? Are you saying that Finn – ”

“It was an accident! And it was my fault, getting in the middle of two blokes punching the shit out of each other. It was a stupid thing to do. And he feels terrible and all, hasn’t stopped apologizing since it happened.” 

“Huh,” said Kester, his brow still furrowed. 

“Look, you’ve got to believe me!” Rae said desperately. “He’d never, you know, actually hit me. It was an accident.” 

“Does he fight often?” 

“What? I dunno… I guess. Maybe.” 

“Well, it’s very… noble of him to come to your defense,” Kester said at last. “But perhaps you might remind him that he needn’t use his fists every time. It’s the same as what I told you. People can accept that you and Finn are together, and that it’s none of their business anyway, or they can fuck off. That’s what words are for. You’re my patient, not Finn, but I say this because I don’t like it that you’re taking the collateral damage. Finn can use his words, or he can walk away.” 

“Finn doesn’ like walking away,” Rae said, unable to keep the fondness out of her voice. “’S’not his style, really.” 

“Well, he should at least think about it,” said Kester, with asperity. “Brawling in the streets is no way to behave, and him starting year thirteen.” 

“Yeah,” Rae said vaguely. She let her gaze drift to the window. Somewhere below, she knew, Finn was waiting for her. They were going to join the others at the chippy as soon as her session was over. 

Kester read her too easily. “Is he waiting for you? I can see by your face that you’re in no mood for a lecture.” 

“Yeah, he’s walkin’ me back.” 

“Well, go on then,” Kester said, though he still looked concerned. “Don’t let me stand in the way of love.” 

Rae was on her feet and halfway to the door in the blink of an eye. “Same time next week,” Kester called after her. “And remember, walk away!” 

Rae clattered down the stairs and burst out of the hospital like a human tornado, all Chuck Taylor trainers and flying hair. Finn was just finishing his cigarette at the curb, and he flicked it away with a grin when he caught sight of her. He grabbed her hand and tried to pull her against him, but Rae pulled away frantically. “Kester might be watching from the window,” she cautioned. “Can’t have you snogging me in front of him, it’d be like in front of an uncle or summat. But you can hold my hand,” she offered as they set off. Finn laced his fingers through hers and squeezed. Rae inspected his profile through her lashes. Nasty cuts across his eyebrow and cheekbone, some bruised swelling along his jawline. She winced in sympathy. Apparently reading her thoughts, Finn started up as if they were mid-conversation. “Me mum almost cried when she saw,” he said. “Dad wanted to ground me, but then Mum thought I’d been punished enough when I turned me sad eyes on her. So here I am.” He smiled, triumphant. 

“Wish dog eyes worked on my mum,” Rae said. “You could get away with murder, you could.” 

“What, you’re sayin’ I should be punished, then?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Only by me,” she whispered. 

Finn grabbed her arm, pushed up the sleeve of her jacket, and began writing there on her skin how exactly he would like her to punish him when Rae took note of their surroundings. 

“This isn’t the way to the chippy!” she exclaimed as they walked into the park. 

“Thought we might take the scenic route,” Finn said smugly. “I wanted you to meself for a mo’ before we joined the others.” 

“But I’m hungry,” Rae protested, without much conviction. 

“So’m I,” said Finn. “But not for nothin’ you can get at the chippy.” 

“You randy bugger,” she told him as he led her through the grass to a wooden park bench. A group of kids were playing football in the distance and some girls were tossing a frisbee, laughing uproariously whenever one of them dropped it. They sat down together on the bench, Rae leaning back and closing her eyes to bask in the sunlight. No sooner had she begun to feel sleepy than Finn leaned over and kissed her, hard. His fingers of one hand drifted up and began to expertly undo the row of tiny buttons that ran down the front of her top, partly sheltered by her open jacket. The other hand he placed on her leg, inching under her skirt to the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. 

She sighed with pleasure and then abruptly remembered that anyone passing by could see them. “Finn!” she sputtered. “Whatsa matter with you?” 

But Finn was determined, with, Rae could see, the proverbial bee in his bonnet. Two days it had been since they’d last seen each other, and now he couldn’t keep his hands off of her. Rae allowed herself to be flattered, glancing furtively left and right to make sure no one was paying them any attention. 

Some spirit of recklessness seemed to possessing Finn, who often erred on the side of reticence when they were in public together. He kissed her again, slipping a hand inside her shirt. He fumbled around in back to unclasp her bra, and then she felt his calloused thumb rubbing against her breast. Finn buried his face in her neck and groaned. 

“Wotcher!” 

Rae let out a squeak of terror and clutched at Finn. They looked up and saw Archie, jogging towards them and waving. “Fuck,” Rae breathed. “Help me. Hurry!” Finn pulled the straps of her bra back on her shoulders but couldn’t manage to clasp it under her shirt. With another curse she knocked his hands away and frantically did up the buttons of her shirt, putting them in all the wrong holes and managing to zip her jacket up over the mess just as Archie reached them. 

“I thought it was you!” Archie said brightly, pushing his spectacles up on his nose. “Got waylaid on the way to the chippy, did you? Need someone to hurry you along?” 

Finn glared. “We’re not four years old, Arch,” he said. 

“Glad to hear it, ‘cos if there was a pair of four-year-olds shagging on a park bench, I’m sure people’d have something to say,” Archie said. Rae blushed, but was more concerned that she could feel Finn quivering with anger beside her. Having taken it for granted for so long now, she always had to remind herself that Finn didn’t know Archie was gay, and therefore considered him something of a rival for her affections. To her Archie’s teasing was embarrassing but harmless; to Finn, it registered as a threat. 

“We weren’t shagging yet,” Finn said, his voice dangerous. “You’d’ve gotten off on it if we were.” 

“Maybe I would,” Archie said quietly.   
Rae looked between them, from Finn’s hostile glare to Archie, now looking angry and belligerent. But then something passed from Finn to Archie and back again, and she felt Finn relax beside her. Archie smiled. 

“Ey, ey, I was just taking the piss!” he said jocularly. “On to the chippy then, lovebirds?” 

The three of them fell into step together, feeling the sun blazing down on them. Rae lifted her sweaty hair off her neck, feeling stifled in all her layers of clothing. Finn tucked a damp lock behind her ear, bumping her shoulder with his and taking her hand. 

“All the people, so many people, and they all go hand in hand, hand in hand through their - ” Archie sang, and the boys chorused together on “Parklife!” Rae rolled her eyes and smiled, fanning herself with her free hand. 

“You look a bit sunkissed, Rae,” Archie said. 

Rae touched her cheeks and found them uncomfortably warm under her hands. “Fuckin’ Finn,” she groused, “draggin’ me out through the sun. We don’t all of us get a lovely tan from it. Some of us fry up.” 

“You got too much English in your blood,” Finn told her. “Not enough pollination. Me, I can trace me lineage back to – ”

“Shut up,” Rae said. “Your talking about lineage is almost as bad as Archie talking about history.” 

Both of them pulled comically offended faces. As they drew close to the chippy, Rae let Archie get a few paces ahead of her and Finn so she could whisper urgently to him: “Finn – my top’s a mess, an’ my tits are all falling out.”

“Are they?” he said, his eyes very dark and warm. 

“Hurry up!” Archie called. “Bet everyone’s waiting.” 

“We’ll sort you out inside,” Finn whispered. 

They walked into the chippy, waving at Chop and Izzy, who had already claimed a table. “Finn – ” Rae murmured desperately as Archie plopped himself down with Chop and Izzy and helped himself to a swig from Chop’s beer. Izzy was beckoning her over urgently, and Rae felt one of her bra straps slide uselessly over her shoulder. 

“C’mon,” Finn said. When the hostess’ back was turned, he dragged her through a side door, and to a single occupancy toilet whose door carried the emphatic sign “Employees Only.” He closed the door behind them, locking it and fastening the chain. Before Rae could even speak he was lifting her up and sitting her on the sink counter, her back pressed against the mirror. Feeling a rush of pure lust course through her veins, she suddenly registered that one of her fantasies had just come true. In all her years of self-loathing, Rae became convinced that a boy could never pick her up, never sweep her off her feet and lift her into the air. She was too fucking big for that to happen. Being swept off one’s feet was reserved for beautiful, skinny girls like Chloe, not cows like her. But Finn had lifted her. He had picked her up. Maybe being swept off her feet and into the sink of a dingy restaurant loo wasn’t exactly cinematic, but for the first time in her life, Rae felt lighter than air. 

Finn was eagerly unzipping her jacket, tossing it to the floor once he had worked it off her arms. “I like this,” he whispered into her ear, surveying the disorder of her top. Slowly, letting his fingers brush against her skin with each button, he undid those that had stayed fastened until he got her shirt open. “I thought you was s’posed to be fixin’ me up,” she scolded breathlessly. “And look at you makin’ it worse.” He didn’t respond but grinned rakishly up at her. He pushed her legs farther apart and stood between them, leaning in for a kiss. 

He was fiddling around down there, doing something with her skirt and her pants, but whenever she tried to see what exactly, he gently bumped her head back with his own and kissed her for distraction. She barely smothered a cry when he pushed one finger, then another, deep inside her. Rae gripped his shoulders with both hands, her nails digging into his skin, but neither of them noticed. Finn crooked his fingers and twisted his wrist sharply. 

Oh. 

The sensations that were racing through her whole body now – they were too much, much too much. She leaned forward against him, moving her hips in time with his hand. She felt like crying from the simple pleasure of it. “There,” she told him. “There – there…” He was nose to nose with her, his eyes boring in to hers, and then he did that thing with his wrist again. She almost screamed with the intoxicating rush of release, but Finn was planting delicate, shallow kisses on her lips, breathing in tandem with her. His eyes were heavy-lidded and she could feel him, hard against her leg. “I couldn’t stop thinking how much I wanted to do that to you again,” he told her wickedly. “You look so fuckin’ hot when you come. An’ I like it when you tell me what to do.” Very slowly, he brought his fingers, the fingers he’d used on her, up to his mouth and sucked on them, hard. Rae’s eyes went wide with shock. She was still reeling when he reached round to close her bra and patiently, tenderly did up her top again. 

“Finn,” she said, gathering her courage, “when are we going to. You know. It. You know. Do it. Because I. Want to. When. You know.” Christ, she sounded like a robot, her words coming out all clipped. 

“It?” he said huskily, not helping. 

“When are we going to fuck then?” she almost shouted, exasperated, and was gratified to see his eyes go wide and his pelvis jerk convulsively. 

“Christ, Rae, are you tryin’ to kill me?” he demanded, nudging her aside to turn on the tap and splash his face with cold water. 

“Serves you right,” she told him. He splashed water at her and she responded, madly flinging droplets in his direction. They kept at it, growing damper and damper, until Rae leapt off the counter with a yelp because the sink had overflowed. Finn hastily shut off the water and Rae examined the wet spot on the back of her skirt. “Now it looks like I’ve pissed myself,” she said ruefully. “S’always somethin’.” 

“Well, like ya pissed yourself, sorta sideways,” Finn offered, bringing his face close to inspect the damage. Rae swatted him away. 

“What are the others goin’ to think?” she lamented. 

“That ya pissed yourself sideways,” said Finn. “Put your jacket round your waist.” 

“Can’t,” she said emphatically. “Won’t have my arms swinging in the breeze for all to see.” 

To her surprise, Finn’s eyebrows contracted. “That’s stupid,” he told her harshly. “Don’t put yourself down. Either tie the damn jacket round or don’t, but I’m not havin’ you talk about yourself that way. I hate it when you do that.” 

“Fine,” she said, startled. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologise. It’s yourself that you’re takin’ the piss out of.” He actually looked angry. Rae hastily tied the jacket around her waist, covering the damp spot on her skirt. Finn’s jaw was still clenched mulishly, and it seemed something else was required. Drawing on the inner resolve she’d been cultivating over the past months, Rae turned to face the mirror. She cringed to see that her cheeks were pink with sun, but persevered bravely. “It’s fuckin’ embarrassing how good I look right now,” she announced, then glanced at Finn. He was grinning and his eyes were warm again. “That’s my girl,” he said. “Give us a kiss.” 

She walked towards him and he pivoted her around, pinning her against the doorframe. “I fuckin’ love ya,” he told her firmly. “And we’ll have sex when it’s right. Soon. I ain’t takin’ ya in a public toilet, I’ll tell ya that much. Nah. When it’s right. Soon.” 

“Soon,” she agreed. 

They left the toilet together, holding hands. They slipped back into the restaurant, almost colliding with a group of older blokes. There were some whistles, and someone mooed loudly. Out of the corner of her eye Rae saw Chop moving towards them, his hands already clenching into fists. No, she prayed. Not again. Please not again. Please not another one. 

But then something remarkable happened. Although he was gripping her hand too tightly, making her bones creak, Finn actually grinned at their assailants. “Fuck off, you sad twats,” he told them, and then Chop was flanking her other side, moving them away towards their friends. Rae shot Finn a glance of undisguised surprise, and he winked back at her. Shaking her head, she allowed Chop to escort them to the table and she sank into a chair between Archie and Izzy, her knees suddenly weak. 

“Right, you two!” Izzy commanded. “Where’d you get to?” 

Rae looked at Finn across the table. He was smirking. “Scenic route,” she said.


	6. I Remember Nothing

“But I’m wearing heels!” Chloe cried shrilly. “I can’t walk a mile to the club!” 

“You could take ‘em off, Chlo-me-love, or y’could have done like Raemundo here and worn y’trainers,” said Chop. 

“Trainers!” said Chloe, wrinkling her nose. “Can’t one of you just drive?” 

“But then we’d need to assign a designated driver,” Archie pointed out. “And that’s not fair, is it, that one of us has got to stay sober.” 

“An’ Finny an’ me are the only ones with a license, so that don’t leave a lot of choice now, do it?” Chop concluded. 

“But that means I’ll have to go home and change!” Chloe wailed. “I’ll have to put a whole new outfit together – ”

“You can wear my flats,” Izzy offered. “I don’t mind walking barefoot.” 

“You won’t!” Chop said forcefully. “You’d step on a bit of glass or summat.” 

“You told me I ought to walk barefoot!” Chloe accused. 

“Izzy’s my responsibility –”

“I can shift for myself perfectly well, Arnold, I managed for sixteen years – ”

“Fuck it,” Finn cut in. “I’ll drive.” 

Chloe made to fling herself at him in gratitude, and Finn stepped back hastily, bumping into Rae, who shoved him away. “But now you’re not going to have any fun,” she told him, and he had to smile at how upset she was that he wouldn’t be drinking. “S’not a big deal,” he said. “Drinks’ll be overpriced anyway, and I’ve got to save up, haven’t I, so I can take ya on a proper date one o’these days.” She smiled and blushed a bit, and for Finn that was reward enough. “C’mon,” he said to the others. 

“Where?” asked Chloe. 

“To me house, for the car.” 

“More walking – ”

“Alright, alright, I’ll get the sodding car meself!” Finn bellowed in frustration, and then glimpsed his silver lining. “Come along, Rae?” She trotted after him, casting a glance over her shoulder at Archie pulling a bottle of gin from his shoulderbag and passing it around. “I can be responsible with you, if you like.” 

“Nah, s’ok,” he said. It was dark already, and under the glow of a streetlamp he gave her the-once over. She was wearing a black top and a long black skirt with a slit cut dangerously high up the side. And her trainers, of course. “Ya look nice,” he told her. 

She tugged self-consciously at the skirt. “Hate letting Chloe and Izzy dress me,” she grumbled. “And I know you don’t like it when I wear makeup, but Izzy gets a kick off doing it, and I woke up with a new spot on my chin, so I figured – ”

“When someone gives ya a compliment,” he said, “it’s polite to say thanks. Not argue.” 

She sighed. “Thank you.” 

He pushed her against someone’s fence and kissed her, running his hand up her leg. “I like this skirt. S’like an all-access pass.” 

She moved his hand away from her leg and held it, marching him towards his house. “You said you weren’t goin’ to shag me in public. You said it had to be special.” 

“There are other things we could do in public,” he offered, but she swatted him off. He went inside for the keys and after some rummaging found them in the fruit bowl. He considered leaving a note, but since he was planning on getting back before first light, it probably wasn’t worth it, and he’d be grounded either way if his parents found out, note or not. He was on thin enough ice as it was… On his way out he snagged a pack of beers and put Rae in charge of them for the road. “And you can be music maestro,” he said magnanimously. “But only happy stuff. No sad shite.” 

“Yeah, yeah…” she rummaged through his tapes and put on Suede. 

“Oh we are young and not tired of it, oh we are young and easily led, oh with all the kids getting out of their heads!” Brett Anderson howled as Finn pulled up in front of the others and they all piled into the back seat, Izzy perched precariously on Chop’s lap. 

“This is so illegal,” Archie groaned, crushed against the door. “Drive proper, Finn, and don’t get us pulled over.” 

“I passed me test on the first go,” Finn said defensively, and Rae reached over to squeeze his leg. 

Three beers were cracked open simultaneously in the back, but Rae shook her head when Chop tried to pass her one, apparently determined to spend the night sober with him. Izzy also declined, saying brightly, “I’d feel terrible if I spilled anything in your car, Finn.” 

“That’s proper decent of you, Iz,” he said, “’Cept Archie’s already puked in it, last year, and Chop did a number on the front seat with a lit fag.” 

“Didn’ know it was lit!” Chop protested. “Wouldn’t’a stuck it on the seat if I’d knowed!” 

“That’s ‘cos you were fucked up on the stuff we got from – ” he nearly said “Kendo” and thought better of it. “From that bloke.” He looked over at Rae, and she was smiling at the evocations of adventures past, staring out the window with her hair blowing in the breeze. She was a grand girl, he found himself thinking fondly. Brett Anderson was still singing about being young on the car stereo, but Finn rather he wished he wasn’t, not so young at least. Seventeen was a stupid age. How amazing would it be to be free from parents, suspiciously scanning his face and hands for signs of fighting every time he walked through the door, to be done with college and university and getting marks good enough for a scholarship, to be able to spend all the time in the world with Rae, without having to ask anyone’s permission or leave bedroom doors open. To be able to pick up with her and just go – just keep driving, armed with enough mixtapes to carry them into the twenty-first century. 

God, she was a mind reader, his Rae, for she’d put in another tape and now it was Jarv singing, “Let’s all meet up in the year 2000.” In the year 2000 he’d be 21, and she’d be 20. That was proper adult, old enough to do what they liked. Would they be living together by then, he wondered. In London? In Manc? Would they – 

“Finn, you missed the turn-off, you daft sod!” Chloe was suddenly shrieking into his ear. Shaking his head to clear it, he reversed and performed a neat three-point-turn, wedging the car into a cramped spot in the car park behind the club. It looked like a refurbished warehouse or something, and he could hear the throbbing bass pounding through the walls. He hated it already, the pricey drinks, the over-dressed boys and the under-dressed girls (the old Finn wouldn’t have minded that a bit, but the new Finn had no interest in the over-eager Stamford girls shoving their cleavage in his face and offering to buy him pints). He was a fucking misanthrope, he thought ruefully, shaking his head. His Nan had taught him that word, using it against him when he’d visit her in hospital and complain about mates, teachers, Lincolnshire bullshit, and everything else that made him sound like a less-articulate imitation of a Clash record. “You’re such a misanthrope, Finn,” she had scolded him. “You should try to see the best in things.” The best in things. Rae always saw the best in him, even if she wouldn’t see the best in herself, which was so obvious to him – 

“Are you going to sit out here all night, or are you coming in?” Rae asked him. The others were already out of the car. Finn was feeling sluggish and introspective, a bad state for clubbing, and he’d’ve preferred to just sit in the car with Rae, listening to music and arguing about dumb shit and then maybe making out in the back seat. But she looked eager and impatient now, so he hauled himself out of the car. 

The bouncer waved them in without looking at them. As he suspected it was much too loud inside, packed with writhing sweaty bodies illuminated by flashing neon lights. A large sign on the wall said “no smoking,” which immediately had him craving a fag. Chloe was tottering off towards the bar in those ridiculous heels that had resulted in him having to drive the damned car, and Izzy was jumping up and down in a way that practically screamed underage. Finn liked making plans and he liked the debrief, but he often found the thing itself, the feature presentation, somehow lacking, so he’d start thinking ahead to the debrief and how he’d complain about it. 

Rae was saying something to him but the music was too loud. “What?” he bellowed. 

“D’you mind if I dance with Izzy for a bit?” she shouted. 

“Go on then!” 

He watched her take hands with Izzy and join the crowd on the dance floor, which seemed to move like a single amorphous organism with too many limbs. Chloe had already found a bloke to dance with, but Finn didn’t like the look of him and made a mental note to check up on that later. Chloe irritated him sometimes and she had atrocious taste in music, but she was younger than she acted and he didn’t like to think of her getting in trouble. He moved to the bar and ordered the beer that would have to last him the whole night. Christ, he didn’t feel like dancing. 

“Wot you sulkin’ about?” Chop demanded, sliding onto a barstool next to him and ordering some garishly blue mixed drink. 

“Not sulking,” Finn said. “Just not in the mood, I guess.” 

“Lookit yerself, sittin’ round like a chavvy bump on a log – ”

“I ain’t the one wearin’ tracky bottoms!” 

Chop downed his drink. “You oughta try one o’these, mate. Tell ya what, drink as much as y’like, enjoy yerself, then we’ll drive the car to a field an’ pass out til you or me’s steady again.” 

Finn shook his head. “S’yer funeral,” Chop said, shrugging. “I’m goin’ out there to find me lady.” 

Finn spent the next fifteen minutes sipping his beer and willing himself to stand up and move, but it was like his mind had detached from his body and he couldn’t galvanise himself into action. Finishing his beer he reached over and drank what was left in Chop’s glass, only to choke and spray it across the counter. Christ it was strong. He felt like he’d been stabbed in the throat. Or taken battery acid. 

Rae and Archie then appeared, settling themselves on either side of him. Rae needed a little help getting into her barstool, she’d clearly had a few already. So much for staying sober with him, not that he minded. She smiled at him, beatific with intoxication. “I just wanted to tell you, this was a fucking fantastic good idea!” she announced. “Though it’s hot in here, don’t you think? Really hot?” 

Archie was trying to prop his elbow on the bar and rest his chin on his hand, but his arm kept slipping out from under him. Annoyed, Finn ordered him a water but then Archie went and ordered one of those fancy drinks like Chop’s. Fine, Finn thought, I’m not going to be your fucking nanny. 

“Oh boy,” Archie said, chasing his drink with water. “Oh boy oh boy.” Finn rolled his eyes. “Shaddap, I’m not drunk,” Archie told him, slightly cross-eyed. 

“We should go out more,” Rae said, angling herself to face him and crossing her legs. Finn immediately got a raging hard-on. That blasted slit up the side of her skirt revealed an enticing expanse of thigh and he could just make out the lace of her knickers. Seeing just slightly up her skirt was so much worse than being able to see all the way up. Finn put his jacket over his lap. He hadn’t seen her this plastered since the rave, and his bad mood couldn’t help but dissipate in the face of her enthusiasm. He tried to distract himself from the ache in his groin, scanning the scene around them. He could look in three different directions and see six different illegal activities, but none of this managed to divert his attention from the voluptuous pair of legs in front of him. 

“I get plastered with so little that I never have the chance to drink a lot of hard liquor,” Rae said conversationally. “But the drinks here are strong. I wasn’t counting, Izzy was counting for me but then I lost her so there was no one counting. Not that I think I had that many, but what I did have was strong…” she trailed off, her gaze caught by something. “That’s so hot,” she said emphatically. 

“Wha’?” Finn scanned the crowd and spotted Chloe grinding up against that scousy bloke he hadn’t liked the look of before. She had her leg thrust between his and he was running his hands up and down her sides, over her hips. It made Finn feel a bit nauseous just watching, but both Rae and Archie were staring intently, apparently riveted by the sight. She uncrossed her legs and then crossed them the other way, and his erection flared right back up. 

“You’re proper fit, you know,” she informed him. 

Finn grinned, shaking his head and trying not to laugh. 

She pointed an unsteady finger at him. “When someone gives you a compliment, it’s polite to say thanks,” she parroted. 

“Thank you,” he said solemnly, mouth twitching. 

She leaned forward, giving him a magnificent look down her shirt. “When are you goin’ to teach me to have proper sex?” she demanded. Finn glanced over at Archie, who was humming out of tune with the music. “You’re always touchin’ me and rubbin’ at me, but we always have to stop. You smug fit bastard,” she added as an afterthought. 

Finn hoped he wouldn’t make an indescribable mess in his trousers if she carried on this way. Checking to make sure Archie wasn’t paying attention, he leaned forward and let his hand go up her leg a bit. She slid her hands into his hair and tugged at his fringe insistently. “Well?” she said. 

“When it’s right and proper,” he whispered. 

She pouted at him a bit, and then she scooted forward and his hand went completely up her skirt – he had the sensation of lacy fabric against his fingertips, but then Rae lost her balance and slipped sideways. He caught her, trying not to chuckle. He wasn’t feeling particularly misanthropic anymore. 

“Want to dance, then?” he asked, and she nodded enthusiastically. He put an arm around her and led her out to the floor, joining the writhing amoebic organism. Archie followed them, which was a bit irritating, but he forgot Archie as soon as he and Rae were pressed against each other. She twined her arms around his neck and he placed his hands on her back. The way their hips were moving together, he felt like he had her in bed, thrusting into the pulsing, shocking beat. He concentrated on the music a moment to keep himself from falling off the edge. It was Ian Curtis, mashed up against some stupid dance beat – “We were strangers, we were strangers for far too long, far too long, me in my own world, you there beside me – ” Rae must’ve been listening too because she smiled at him, and then they both laughed at their shared proclivity to write their lives onto any piece of music they happened to be listening to. 

Until that moment forgotten, Archie wrapped his arms around Rae from behind, sandwiching her between them. Finn didn’t appreciate this much, but Rae was alright, letting Archie sway drunkenly along with them. Maybe Rae was oblivious, but Finn’s hackles were rising dangerously at the way Archie’s hands slid proprietarily over her body. And his arms were getting tired from supporting the pair of them. He had it when Archie planted a wet kiss on Rae’s neck, just below her ear. He pulled her away from him, but Rae lost her balance and Archie lurched along with her, slamming into his shoulder. 

And then Archie kissed Finn squarely on the mouth. 

Finn jerked back, almost dropping Rae in shock. Rae’s eyes were wide as saucers. Archie blinked at them, looking befuddled, and then he gagged, clapped a hand over his mouth and dashed for the toilet. 

“What the flying fuck was that?” 

He grabbed Rae’s hand and dragged her from the crowd. She wrestled with him, trying to squirm away, but he was stronger. He frogmarched her out, not stopping when Chop joined them, drink in hand and looking completely plastered. Together they staggered out of the club and stood gasping in the car park, the air suddenly cool against their sweaty skin. 

He didn’t even care that Chop was there. Ears ringing and half-deaf from the music, he faced Rae. “What the flying fuck was that?” he repeated, too loudly. His lips were still tingling. 

“Finn…” she said pleadingly, hardly able to stand up. Her eyes landed on Chop and she took the drink from his hand, downing it in one gulp. 

Chop sat down heavily. “Raemundo you daft lass,” he said thickly. “Tha’s not for you. Shouldn’ drink it.” 

“Why not? What’s wrong with it?” Finn rounded on Chop. 

“Too shtrong,” Chop slurred. “Told ‘er when we got in. Told ‘er not to drink the blue onesh.” 

“Why?” Finn shouted. 

“They got everclear,” Chop said, and passed out. 

“Fuck,” Finn breathed. He caught Rae as her knees buckled and guided her down to the ground. “How many?” he asked, his heart pounding. Everclear was what, nearly 200 proof? People died from drinking that shit, and now his Rae was looking pale and dizzy and sick. 

“Dunno,” she mumbled. 

“RAE!” he shouted, but she just slumped against him. He was afraid now, everclear was strong enough to run your car on, and this was all his fault. If he hadn’t been such a grumpy sod, such a fucking misanthrope, he would’ve gone out with her at the start of the night and kept an eye on her. 

So he resorted to his emergency measure, dragging her up and bracing her back against his chest. Then he clasped his fingers around her midsection and pushed in and up, performing a modified version of the Heimlich maneuver. But nothing happened, and her head just lolled back against his shoulder. Cursing, he lowered them back to the ground and, as gently as possible, forced his fingers down her throat. 

Finally, after a tense moment that felt like an hour though it was perhaps five seconds, she convulsed against him. Supporting her from behind, he held her hair and patted her back as she vomited up all that awful blue stuff. She coughed and heaved for a long time, finally emitting a pitiful moan and clutching at her head. 

“Are ya alright?” he demanded. 

“I feel awful,” she whispered. “I feel worse than awful. I feel like someone exploded a bomb in my head. And I’ve got sick on my dress.” 

Finn breathed a sigh of relief. He felt like kissing her and shaking her all at once, and he also felt a bit like crying. He’d been so fucking scared, just a minute ago, and yet here she was, alive and breathing in his arms and, true to form, complaining. 

“We gotta get you home,” he said. 

“No.” She clutched at his jacket. “Please, Finn, please don’t make me go in the car. Too much moving –” She retched again, but had nothing more to bring up. He rubbed her temples, thinking how much trouble he’d be in if he didn’t get home before his folks were up. But fuck it. There were more pressing things to worry about, like making sure Chop was alright and finding out where the hell Izzy, Chloe, and Archie had got to. Archie. He’d all but forgotten what happened in his fright for Rae. Why had Archie kissed him? It was Rae he fancied, Finn was sure Archie still had something for Rae, but… Too much to think about now. He’d have to put it off for later. 

To his relief he saw Chloe and Izzy emerge from the building, supporting Archie between them. Archie looked nauseous and shivery and also seemed to have sick splattered down his front. On seeing Chop prostrate on the ground, Izzy let out a cry and ran to him, leaving Chloe to stagger under Archie alone. Reluctantly Finn scrambled to his feet to help her, and together they lowered him to sit on the curb. “Someone told me there was everclear in the blue drinks,” Chloe said, eyes wide. “I didn’t have any of the blue ones, nor did Izzy, but Rae and Archie and Chop all did ‘cos they didn’t know the difference. And then once I found out we couldn’t find any of ‘em, and then Izzy discovered Archie being sick in the women’s toilet, and… Are Rae and Chop alright?” she asked anxiously. 

Izzy had managed to revive Chop, who seemed rather pleased to have awoken in the lap of his girlfriend and was earnestly reassuring her that he didn’t feel much worse than usual. Rae was on her feet now, taking uneven steps towards the car and resting against the boot. 

“I think everyone’ll make it,” Finn said, allowing relief to seep into his voice. “Dunno how we’ll get them home, though.” 

“We’ve got to,” Chloe said. “It’s not far, and they should be drinking loads of water.” 

Zombie-like, they staggered back o the car. Finn rolled down all the windows and hoped for the best. Rae was much more alert now, recovered enough to inquire about the wellbeing of the others. He was relieved when all of them were dropped off at their respective houses, Archie clapping Finn on the shoulder as if nothing had happened – did he remember anything? Finn wondered – and weaving his way up to his door with a shaky salute. Izzy went home with Chloe, and Rae shook her head when Finn asked her if she minded Chop staying over at his too. 

“Finn,” Rae said softly as he parked the car, “did you save my life?” 

“Don’t be stupid,” he said shortly. “Anyone would’ve done.” 

“Not anyone,” Rae said.

“I shoulda been lookin’ after you,” he said fiercely. 

“I shouldn’t’a been drinkin’ anything colored blue,” she replied. 

He smiled at her, a wave of affection and relief sweeping over him. He cupped her cheek with his hand and leaned in. 

“Don’t kiss me,” Rae protested, “I’ve been ill.” 

He kissed her anyway, and didn’t regret it.


	7. Gravity Always Wins

Everything started when Rae was supposed to take her meds. She didn’t exactly hide it from Finn, the fact that she took 200 milligrams of antidepressant each day, delivered in the form of deceptively cheerful blue capsules, but she certainly didn’t draw attention to it. That day she forgot to take her dose at the usual time and didn’t remember until Finn was already over, stretched out on his front on the floor as he rummaged through her CD bin. Perched on her bed, where she’d been looking down fondly at the top of his head, Rae stealthily slid open the top drawer of her dresser and fumbled for the bottle. Now, if she could just get one pill out with no giveaway noise… Finn looked absorbed in the CD booklet he was flipping through… Rae fumbled with the infuriating “press down and twist” childproof top, couldn’t open it, got frustrated, tugged too hard, and a second later the pills were everywhere, scattering on the floor and ricocheting off the furniture. 

That got Finn’s attention. “Lookit you, cheeky chops, makin’ a mess all over,” he said archly, scrambling around to collect the pills. Rae grimaced at him and got off the bed. They’d gone everywhere, her pills, landing in the most unlikely places, and with a groan she got down on her hands and knees to retrieve the more far-ranging ones from under her bed. It was probably the sight of her bum waving wantonly in the air that put the idea in Finn’s head – if it hadn’t already been there since the moment he walked into her room an hour ago, since the first time he touched her under her pants, since the first time he kissed her in front of the chippy, since the first time he hugged her in the park, since… Finn fairly pounced, sneaking up behind her to wrap his arms around her middle and haul her out from under the bed. She emitted a breathy squeak and they landed in a heap together on the floor. Finn immediately rolled on top of her and proceeded to plant light butterfly kisses around her jawline. 

“How long til they’re back?” he whispered. 

“Got another hour,” Rae gasped, almost delirious from the feeling of his lips against her skin. “Finn –”

But the emphatic kisses he was depositing along her collarbone took away the rest of her words. Oh my, Rae thought, with a little shiver somewhere deep in her stomach, is this it? Sunlight was streaming in through the open window, a small detached part of her brain realised with dismay, and she did not like to be seen in the light. Bright summer afternoons were unforgiving; Rae preferred night, or at least some kind of dusk where all her dimples and rolls could blend in with the shadows and merge with the fuzzy tapestry of half-light. But she knew what Finn would say if she got up to pull the drapes. He would tell her she was beautiful, deserving to be seen in the light, and then he’d say something about flowers and photosynthesis that meant to be sweet but came out funny because Finn never paid attention in chemistry anyway. And then they’d laugh, but the moment would have gone and yet another day would join growing string of days and weeks where she didn’t touch him the way she knew he wanted her to and didn’t let him touch her the way he said he wanted to. 

Finn reared up to yank his shirt over his head and then returned to her. Both of his hands were working now, with remarkable ambidexterity, up and down her arms, writing I L-O-V-E Y-O-U and then, more slowly, with deliberation he pulled up her shirt a few inches to write on her belly (Rae squeezed her eyes shut in shame) I W-A-N-T Y-O-U. 

“Rae… D’you –”

Instead of answering, she kissed him back hard. Finn let out a tiny uff of surprise but matched her, plunging his tongue deep into her mouth. Yes, this was it – now all the pernicious thoughts were retreating, back into the recesses of her brain, no longer flapping their heavy moth wings over the flame of pure want that ignited within her whenever Finn was near. It was alright now, alright – 

Finn had his hands under her top now, dragging his fingers up and down her sides, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. And then he pulled it over her head in a smooth motion, tossing the unwanted article aside. His free had slid around her back to unclasp her bra. Rae couldn’t help it, she tried not to, she fought against herself, but as soon as she felt the bra sliding down from her shoulders her whole body tensed. There was too much light on her, too much sun and too much to be seen, and oh god it was awful, it was cruel of her to subject him to this – this ghastly sight, her unseemly mass. And he knew her too well, he always read her body, her movements, like an open book, she knew he sensed her hesitation because now he was hesitating too. Blindly she reached up to kiss him and draw his face back to hers – if their mouths were joined he wouldn’t be able to look at the rest of her – 

Then she felt him pull away decisively, and to her surprise she felt him fumble around her back and close her bra again. Then he levered himself off her and leaned against her bed. 

“You don’t like it,” he said flatly. His eyes were dull and disappointed. 

Rae found her shirt and hastily pulled it on. “No – no, I do like it, course I like it, it was just that the sun was in my face –”

“You don’t want me to look at ya.” Another horrible, flat observation. 

“You shouldn’t have to.” She regretted that as it slipped out, because now he looked angry. 

“Fuck, Rae!” he exploded. “I hate myself so much sometimes, I feel like I’m tryna force you –”

“You’re not forcing me!” she exclaimed. “I want to do it, I do! I – ”

“Then why don’t ya ever tell me what ya like? I wanna make you happy, I wanna make you feel good so I try things, I try to do things you might like, but I’m shootin’ in the dark ‘cos you don’t say nothin’!” His eyes were overbright and shining. She’d never seen him this angry, not at her, and she didn’t know what to say. She retreated inward, trying to make herself as small as possible. “When I ask you what you like you won’t never tell me nothin’! And ‘cos you don’t tell me I dunno if I’m just doin’ things I like, and you just keep quiet!” 

“I’ve said no before,” she whispered. “I tell you if I’m scared – ”

“You don’t tell me,” he contradicted. “Not with words. I have to figure it out from the way you’re actin.’ And that makes me so fuckin’ scared, Rae, that you won’t tell me and I’ll guess wrong, I’ll read you wrong, and that then I’ll be makin’ you do something you don’ actually wanna do because you don’ fuckin’ tell me!” His voice shook and broke on that last. “Tryin’ t’guess if you’re happy or not, if you’re scared, there’s nothin’ sexy about that to me,” he went on more quietly. “I don’t get off on that. There’s a term for that, and it’s called – ”

“I know, I know,” she broke in quickly. “I’m sorry!”

“And now you’re apologisin.’” Finn sounded sad, defeated. “I dunno how to make ya believe me, when I tell ya I love ya and I want ya and I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met.”

Rae couldn’t think of anything to say except “I’m sorry” again, and he’d already told her not to say that so she kept silent. Tears were starting in her eyes and she saw them mirrored in his. Angrily Finn swiped at his eyes and stood up, wrenching his shirt over his head. 

“You’re leaving?” she said, horrified. “We can try again –”

“No, Rae.” He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “I don’ want to try again. Not til you’re ready to talk to me. Otherwise I just feel like the sickest bastard on the planet for forcin’ you into what you obviously don’t like.” He marched to the door, but there he paused and seemed to collect himself. She heard him breathe deeply and then he turned around and walked back to her. He put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her tenderly on the forehead. “I’ll give ya a ring later,” he said. 

As soon as he was gone, Rae collapsed facedown on her bed and gave in to the heavy sobs that had been building up in her chest. Her pillow was drenched within seconds and she balled up the sheets in her fists, feeling more miserable than she had in weeks. She had failed him and, as Kester would be quick to remind her, she had failed herself as well. It wasn’t just any stupid fight with her boyfriend, it was that he was right and she was wrong and she didn’t know how to make it right because the thing that was wrong was her. 

It was like when they were listening to The Bends together the other day, Finn keen to introduce her to his new favorite band, and that one song had stayed with her and gotten under her skin. It was hard to understand everything Thom Yorke said, but she latched onto something in the second verse. 

“What’s that he’s on about?” she’d asked Finn. 

“He’s sayin’ the guy used to do surgery, um –” Finn wound back the tape and they listened again. “For girls in –”

“For girls in their early teens!” Rae finished. “Like a plastic surgeon.” 

“I think he said ‘eighties,’” Finn said. “’For girls in the eighties.’”

“No,” she argued. “’He used to do surgery for girls in their early teens.’ Are there doctors who do that? I always thought you had to be grown.” 

Finn shrugged. “Dunno.” 

“If I thought there was such a thing, I’d save up and get it done. I wouldn’t wait around, just do it, and zap!” she gestured at her midsection. “All gone. And I’d get a new nose, too, while I were at it.” 

Finn’s brows had contracted. “That’s sick, Rae. Why would you say somethin’ like that?” 

“Why not?” she rejoined. “I think it’d be brilliant. Hope Thom knows what he’s talking about.” 

Finn shook his head in disgust. “I’m gonna leave it that you’re jokin.’ I like you the way you are.” 

How could he possibly, Rae thought now, like her the way she was? What was there to like in the way she was? Surgery for girls in the eighties, surgery for girls in their early teens, what did it matter? 

Gravity always wins. 

She was probably hopeless anyway, too much mass, too much gravity, for even a cracked polystyrene man to fix. All her gravity, the heaviness of her stomach, her hips, her thighs, and most of all in her head. That gravity always won. 

*

Finn felt worse with every step he took from Rae’s house. Several times he nearly turned back, ready to apologise and forget it. He’d kiss her, let her keep her clothes on, and they’d pretend they never fought. But then he’d see the frightened look on her face all over again, and it made him feel so sick he kept right on going. What the fuck was wrong with him, that he scared her so? Why couldn’t she talk to him, tell him things? Sometimes he felt like they lived within a single skin, sharing thoughts and words and gestures, but other times, like today, she seemed entirely remote from him. Not just in another body but in another world, a world she wouldn’t allow him admittance. 

When he reached home he got on his running kit and left the house without talking to anyone. Finn was usually good as marshalling his thoughts while he exercised, but now whenever he tried to think about her he got a stabbing pain in his side that made him double over. So he thought about Archie instead, a subject that wasn’t much easier to navigate. 

He ticked through the chronology in his head. Chloe introduces Rae to the gang. Rae is immediately attracted to Archie, it’s obvious from the way she looks at him. (Finn wasn’t jealous, exactly, not at the time, anyway). Rae displays superior knowledge of music and Archie is intrigued. Rae and Archie go on date. At the chippy next day, Rae confesses that she and Archie had a bit of a kiss or summat. But later that day Archie shrugs and stands her up, and it falls to him to break the bad news. Christ, that was awful. He tells her where to find Archie, and presumably she goes after him. Later, Chloe tells him in an awed undertone that Archie asked Rae out, but she turned him down. Rae and Archie resume their friendship. Their very close friendship. Rae and Archie kiss at the rave. Rae and Finn get together. Archie kisses Finn at the club… 

It didn’t follow. Not one bit. It all made sense up til that last development, and then everything went off the tracks. He was still trying to figure it out when he finished his run, flushed and sweaty and spent. He felt peculiar thinking about it so much, but it certainly beat thinking about Rae. 

Why would Archie kiss Finn? The thought cycled through his head as he showered, threw a sandwich together, and retreated to his room to spend the remainder of the day brooding. He didn’t know why he was so hung up about it, really, he’d been called on to kiss Archie and Chop and numerous other lads in stupid rounds of spin the bottle, and he certainly hadn’t lost any sleep over snogging and being snogged by a bloke then. Not that he particularly fancied it, mind you, but it didn’t perturb him, either. Why should it, when before the evening was out he’d have a pretty girl pinned against the wall, sticking her tongue in his mouth? 

When a possible solution to the riddle drifted into his mind, at first it seemed so preposterous that he dismissed it immediately. He tried to read, tried to pick out the new song by the Manics on his guitar, but the perplexing thought kept resurfacing. As with any new discovery he made, he wanted to run it past Rae. But Rae… Right now, she could’ve been on another continent, oceans away from him. He missed her. 

*

Finn didn’t ring her up later, nor the next morning, but Dr Nick did. Rae, who hadn’t left her room since Finn’s departure, not even for dinner, was startled out of her stupor when her mother barged through her door (the lock hadn’t been replaced). 

“Rae! Rae!” her mum bellowed. “That was Dr Nick on the line!” Even after all these months with Karim, her face still went a bit pink when she said Dr Nick’s name. But then again, Rae didn’t know any females who could talk about Dr Nick without blushing. 

“Whaddid he want?” she mumbled into her pillow. 

“It was about Tix.” 

Rae sat up quickly. “What about Tixy?” 

“She’s been moved to a new hospital,” Mrs Earl said. “More of a recovery home, I suppose, in the country. Dr Nick says she’s still not speaking, but the hope is that, with a change of scene…” 

“Can I see her then?” 

Mrs Earl had a soft spot for Tix. Even though it was her day off and Karim was home, lounging about in his vest, she still agreed to drive Rae out to the hospital that very afternoon. 

They were quiet in the car ride over. Rae could feel her mum glancing at her from the corner of her eye as she drove, but Rae wasn’t volunteering anything. She slouched into her seat and tried to make herself inaccessible. Finn would have read the signs and kept quiet, but her mum wasn’t so sensitive. She launched into it before they’d hit the Stamford town limits. 

“Had a fight with Finn, then, have you?” she said. 

Rae made a noncommittal noise. 

“It’s bound to happen sometimes,” her mum said sympathetically. “The two of you are always off in your own little word, speaking your own little language, but you can’t expect it to be perfect all the time.” 

“I don’t. Want. To. Talk. About it,” Rae said through gritted teeth. 

“Some time apart will do you both good. I know you’re speaking with Kester about it, but I still feel you’re rushing into things, Rae,” Mrs Earl went on. “You’re very young, both of you, and you’re already so attached. I don’t want you to go wrong again if… if something should happen.” 

But something had already happened, and Rae knew she had already gone wrong again, if she’d ever been right in the first place. 

“At sixteen you’ve no way of knowing if you’re actually in love, or –”

“Mum! Can you please shut up?” 

“Alright, fine, don’t take my advice then,” said Mrs Earl, offended. “Here we are, anyway.” 

This hospital looked more like a stately home than anything else, with its sweeping stone architecture and immaculately groomed hedges. It looked nothing like a hospital inside either, furnished with fussy little pieces and what seemed (to Rae’s eyes) an excess of mirrors. Her mum was delighted to learn that it had a tearoom, which she immediately departed for after sternly telling Rae, “Thirty minutes. Not a minute more. I’ve got to get home and make a nice supper for Karim.” 

A nurse directed Rae outdoors and she spotted Tixy, sitting on a bench with a blanket over her knees like an old-fashioned invalid. Tix looked smaller every time Rae saw her, a pale little ghost hiding behind her lank fringe. 

“Tixy?” she said cautiously. 

Tix patted the space next to her with a wan half-smile. Rae sat, drawing up her knees and resting her chin on them. Together they stared out at the green. 

“Not ready to talk, then?” 

Tix shook her head. 

“S’alright,” Rae said. “I don’t think I am either.” 

Tix nodded. 

They sat in silence for a bit. Rae jostled Tix’s shoulder and pointed at the plump duck waddling across the lawn. Tix smiled but her eyes filled with tears for some reason. She made everyone miserable, Rae berated herself. Everything she did, her very presence made people unhappy. 

“I’ve fucked it all up with Finn,” she said at last, to take Tix’s mind off the duck, which she was still watching woefully. Tix tucked her hair behind her ears and put her listening face on. “That bag of bullshit I told you about before? Now it’s not even that I’m carrying it around. It’s gone inside me. Like, I am the bullshit. I can’t do anything properly, I can’t even lose my virginity to – it’s like the heaviness has taken over. It’s won out over me.” She looked at Tix, whose bones she imagined to be hollow like a bird’s, ready to be blown away by the first puff of wind. “You’re so light,” she said a bit enviously. “You’re light, and I’m heavy. If we took our average, we’d probably find the gravitational constant.” 

Tix rested her head against Rae’s shoulder, and Rae looked up at the sky with eyes that were filling with tears. The sky, turning mauve with sunset, and the fluffy white clouds began to blur and move. Rae didn’t have any more helium in her system. She closed her eyes and wished she could sink down into the earth. 

Gravity always won.


	8. The Great Escape

Finn didn’t have a plan of what to say when he called Rae up, he just knew he had to talk to her or something was going to snap inside of him. She didn’t have to talk to him, not if she didn’t want to, he didn’t care, he just wanted to be near her again, to crawl back into that welcoming shared skin they sometimes inhabited together. 

The phone rang for a long time and he almost gave up before someone finally picked up at the other end. 

“Yes?” 

That deep voice certainly didn’t belong to Rae or her mother. 

“Yeah, Mr Bou -“ He had no clue how to pronounce Karim’s last name. 

“Is Karim.” 

“Right, um, I was just wondering – ”

“Speak too fast.” 

Finn didn’t know much French, having elected to study Spanish at college, and he certainly didn’t have a word of Arabic. So he tried to keep it basic. “Rae? Is Rae in?” 

“No.” 

“Right. D’you know when… d’you know when she’ll be back?” 

“Rae… Rae hopital, avec maman.” 

“Rae’s in hospital?” Finn shouted, his voice sliding up an octave to crack on the last syllable. If she’d done anything stupid, if she’d hurt herself, it was all his fault, he’d driven her to it. He’d shouted at her, and then he’d walked out. He’d walked out and left her alone. He felt dizzy and clutched the receiver hard. 

“Ami,” said Karim, who seemed to have given up on English. “Meilleure ami. La fille petit.” 

“Sorry, I don’t speak – did you say friend? She’s gone to hospital to see a friend, the little – ”

“Yes. Tix-fille,” Karim said, sounding relieved. 

Finn nearly dropped the phone with relief. “She’s alright, then? Rae? She’s alright?” 

“Triste,” Karim said. 

Sad. Rae was sad. That made Finn want to punch himself. “Can I leave a message for her?” he asked Karim. 

Karim didn’t say anything, but the line hadn’t disconnected. “Hello?” Finn said. “Hello?”

He heard something that sounded like a plunger being drawn from a toilet. Then Karim was back. “Rae,” he said. And then there was a soft intake of breath on the other end, and Finn felt his insides melt. Even the sound of her breath… 

“Rae?” 

“Yeah?” her voice was small. 

“S’me.” 

“I know.” 

“Um…” he fumbled for the words. However bad he was with speaking, his difficulties were magnified a hundredfold over the phone, when he couldn’t see her, touch her, read her. “Er, what was that funny sound I just heard?” 

“That was my mum snogging Karim,” Rae said, a hint of wryness creeping into her voice. Finn took courage from this. 

“Rae, I’m shite over the phone and I….” 

She waited, not helping him. 

“Can you come round to mine, first thing tomorrow? I want to talk to ya, but proper, face to face. I – I know I upset ya, and I want to make it right…” 

“Me too,” she said, but he could hear the trepidation in her voice. 

“Everything – we got all mucked up yesterday. I… I fucked up. I was upset with ya, but I shouldn’t’a left. I wanted us to talk but – but I didn’t give ya much of a chance. I’m sorry.” 

“I’m sorry too,” she said. 

“So you’ll come round, then?” 

“Yes.” 

“Early as you like. Nine? We can have the whole day together.” 

“I’d like that,” she said, almost shyly, and Finn pictured the rosy blush that always crept up her neck when she was feeling that heady mixture of elation and bashfulness that he found so endearing. 

“You blushin’?” he had to ask, his face cracking into a smile for the first time since their fight. 

“How d’you always know these things?” she demanded. “You can’t even see me!” 

“S’in your voice,” he told her. “You blush in your voice.” 

*

Finn hardly slept that night. He awoke abruptly at 7 and that was it for sleeping. He laid in bed staring at the ceiling until he heard his parents leave for work, and then after fidgeting about and inventing useless tasks for himself, at 8:30 he took up his station at the window to watch for Rae. An excruciating 37 minutes followed, with Finn keeping one eye on the clock and the other on the window. Rae was seven minutes late, arriving at exactly 9:07 with a sleepy face and mussed hair. The sight of that hair, rumpled on top and tangled at the ends, sent a wave of affection through Finn’s whole body. He was at the door before she could ring the buzzer and flung it open so enthusiastically that it rebounded against the wall. 

They looked at each other for a moment, and just as he had the night it all began, Finn impulsively surged forward and wrapped his arms around her. He pulled her close against him, so close he could feel her heart pounding. And then it was alright, he knew it was going to be alright because she was hugging him back and burying her face against his shoulder. They were both crying a bit, which should have been embarrassing, but it wasn’t. Finn could almost feel their minds in the act of synchronising, merging together like sound waves. All those squiggly lines, like ones on the Unknown Pleasures album, that Ian Curtis had found in an astronomy textbook or summat, joined into a single sinuous, continuous line. No more interference. 

He didn’t kiss her then, he didn’t need to. Sometimes their way of communing was more intimate than kissing (or perhaps even sex, Finn thought) could be. 

When they were dry-eyed and smiling again, they ambled into the kitchen. Finn made porridge and toast with greater adeptness and alacrity than Rae would have expected of him, and when she said as much he swatted her behind. They chewed in companionable quiet for a bit, but Rae couldn’t help but be distracted by the urn still sitting on the counter, which seemed to dominate the room with silent reproach. Finn’s eyes kept flicking over to it as well, and Rae thought it was awful that his Nan was still knocking about, not put to rest anywhere permanent. 

“I hate it,” Finn said, picking up on her thoughts. “Seems all wrong.” 

“Yeah,” she agreed. “It’s not proper closure.” 

“She’d’ve hated it,” Finn went on, “knowin’ we were keepin’ her about like this, starin’ at her all the time. She didn’t like that kind of attention.” 

“I wouldn’t either,” said Rae, who found the notion of being constantly looked at, even if turned to ash and concealed in a ceramic urn, entirely discomfiting. And then an idea, perverse and terrible but also thrilling, shot through her. “Finn –”

He grinned widely at her, his eyes alight with the spirit of daring. “You think –”

“We’d get in an awful lot of trouble,” she cautioned, trying to be sensible. 

Finn shrugged. “She grew up near Anderby Creek,” he said, his voice crackling with excitement. “She loved it, never stopped missing it after we moved her to Stamford. I’ve got the car, it’s not far – not more than a hundred kilometers, that’s less than two hours –”

“So –”

“We’ll pack food –” Finn leapt to his feet and began wildly throwing things into a bag. “I’ll knick my dad’s whiskey –” He rushed about like a person possessed. “And we’ll need blankets or summat for the beach –”

Rae sat back and let Finn make the preparations. Finn liked making preparations and Rae liked watching Finn bustle up and down, looking all focused and purposeful. Finn loaded their provisions into the car by himself, refusing to let Rae help. It was a beautiful day with a gentle breeze that swept away the humidity of the past weeks. Rae tipped her head back and closed her eyes, enjoying the sun on her face and listening to Finn hum to himself. Then he was standing in front of her. “Erm…” 

Rae opened her eyes. Finn was there, holding the urn a bit awkwardly. “Um, would ya mind? For the drive? ‘Fraid it’ll break if I put it in the back.” 

Gingerly Rae took the ceramic pot from him, half terrified that she would hear something rattling about within. Teeth, or – or bones, or – but she heard nothing. Sliding into the passenger seat she settled Finn’s Nan carefully on her lap. It was a great responsibility to be given charge of something – someone – so important to Finn, who was watching with a half smile as she wrapped her arms firmly around it. 

Finn was fiddling with the tape deck, and the music that came out was so familiar it caught her off-guard. “The Beatles?” she demanded, half-indignant. “Thought we were s’posed to be cutting edge.” 

“Just enjoy it,” Finn told her. “You don’t have to be a snob all the time.” 

It was rare for Finn and Rae to enjoy music that way, music that didn’t hold particular pathos for them, music that didn’t demand to be intellectualised at length as they sat on the floor drinking beer. In fact, as they drove east to the sea with all the windows down, Finn was more carefree than Rae had ever seen him. Singing along, his finger keeping time with Ringo on her thigh, he seemed somehow… lighter. He kept leaning over to kiss her, and Rae would shriek at him to keep his eyes on the road and his hands on the wheel, and his lips would graze her hair instead. 

Rae felt she could drive with Finn forever, moving on and on with the wind whipping their hair and the countryside stretching into infinity. She was almost disappointed when they made the turnoff for Anderby Creek. The air had changed, turned a bit cooler, and Rae tasted salt when she inhaled. 

Finn wanted to avoid the more populated areas so they continued south past the little town and turned off onto a dirt road. Finn stopped the car on a bluff and they disembarked, breathing in the bracing sea air. He reclaimed the urn and Rae was given charge of their other paraphernalia. She lost her balance on her descent along the bluff, tumbling into the sand and sending their blankets flying. 

“Even the simplest tasks…” Finn scolded gently as he pulled her to her feet and went about collecting all she’d dropped. Rae brushed sand from the creases of her clothing, watching with undisguised interest as Finn set them up under a scraggly tree. How was he so fucking agile all the time? She felt like an elephant lumbering across the beach, continually losing her footing as she dragged her heavy knapsack behind her. Her trainers were filled with sand, too. “You look all hot and bothered,” Finn said when she finally plopped down next to him, shedding sand all over the blankets he had arranged so neatly. 

“I’m no good with nature,” she complained. 

“It’s pretty,” he said. “Look.” 

Rae looked. The tide was out and the waves were small, capped with white when they broke against the shore. Their stretch of beach was entirely secluded, with no other beach-goers in sight. It was pretty, in a stark sort of way. Not a comfortable pretty, but a pretty that made you feel alert and energised. Together they watched the waves, Rae shivering a bit and grateful for the extra sweatshirt Finn had thought to bring along. 

“I love you,” Finn said presently, his eyes still on the ocean. 

Feeling tingly, Rae laced her fingers through his. “I lo – ”

“You don’t have to say it back, just ‘cos I said it then,” Finn interrupted hastily. “I just wanted to. You know. Say it.” 

“Alright,” Rae agreed, leaning back contentedly and closing her eyes. “I’ll say it later, then. Surprise you.” 

“You always surprise me,” said Finn. 

They laid there together in silence, holding hands and listening to the waves crash, with Finn’s Nan resting between them. After a bit Rae sat up. Finn appeared to have dozed off. A tiny smile was playing about his lips but there was a crease between his brows, which Rae kneaded out with her fingertip. At her touch his eyelids fluttered open and he looked at her questioningly. 

“Should we see about your Nan, then?” she asked. “It’s what we came here for.”

“Right,” Finn said, sitting up too and scrubbing at his face. 

“We don’t have to,” she added hastily. “If you’ve changed your mind we can just bring her home and no one has to know.” 

“I want to,” Finn said quietly. “Sorry, Rae, I just –”

“Shut up, Finn, and no apologising. You hate it when I apologise.” 

He grinned at that and pulled off his trainers and socks. He cuffed his jeans up and Rae followed suit, rolling her leggings up over her knees. “So?” he asked, turning to her and looking a bit helpless. He cracked his knuckles and looked so anxious that Rae’s heart broke a little. It was a powerful feeling, being needed by someone so desperately. 

“Pick her up,” she instructed quietly. Finn complied, cradling the urn reverently against his chest. “Now, d’you want to walk down – ?” 

Finn nodded. Together they walked down to the shore. Rae had to bite back a yelp as the chilly water washed over her toes. She gritted her teeth and made herself follow Finn who, heedless of the cold, was plunging ahead until the waves broke at his knees, soaking the cuffs of his jeans. She drew level with him, her stance wide for balance as the water pulled at the sand beneath her feet. Her teeth began to chatter. Finn was staring straight ahead, clutching the urn to him. He seemed frozen. 

“Finn?” she asked gently. 

He tried to speak but all that came out was a kind of hoarse grunt. He looked at her pleadingly and Rae forced herself to take charge. “You’ve got to make the top come off,” she said. 

Finn nodded. Bracing the urn in the crook of one arm, he twisted and tugged at the top with the other. His muscles strained but it wouldn’t budge. And then, in unison, they both broke into gales of laughter. How ridiculous they must look, Rae thought, shivering knee-deep in the ocean, fully clothed, and wrestling with a ceramic pot. The sudden silliness didn’t feel irreverent at all. Their laughter was part of the ceremony. Finn always said his Nan made him laugh, just as Rae did now, so it was laughter – noisy, heedless, and inopportune – that united the two most important women in Finn’s life. 

The top came off suddenly, and Rae heard Finn’s sharp intake of breath as the ashes billowed forth into the open. Caught by the wind, the ashes hovered like a dusky mirage in the air before them, shimmering slightly, and then they dispersed and vanished. 

Finn was breathing raggedly and Rae took charge again. Grasping his cold hand in hers, she practically dragged him from the water and back up the beach. They collapsed in a shivering heap on their blankets, a mess of water and wet sand. Rae cradled Finn against her shoulder, bracing herself for the furious bout of grief she expected to erupt from him at any second. But when Finn finally turned to look at her, he was smiling despite his overbright eyes. “We did it!” he said hoarsely. “I can’t believe we fuckin’ did it. She’d be proper thrilled, makin’ her escape from Stamford, an’ comin’ back here…” He embraced her impulsively. When he broke away he placed his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. 

“Rae?”

“Yeah?” 

“Can I kiss you?” 

She swatted at him. “Don’t be silly. ‘Course you can.” 

“S’not silly.” Finn intensified the pressure on her shoulders. “I want – I don’t want to fight, but – I want to hear you say ‘yes.’ That’s you in charge, Rae, if you’re tellin’ me yes. I get scared when you’re quiet.” 

“Okay.” 

“Let’s try that again, yeah? Rae, can I kiss you?” 

“Yes,” she said. 

Finn kissed her with aching slowness, his lips open against hers. Emboldened, Rae took the initiative and deepened the kiss herself, flicking her tongue against his. Her head was swimming and the sensations were so intense, so heightened, that the waves, the shore the sky – all of it was falling away. Oh – that feels good… Later Rae would reflect that Finn seemed to treat each activity – be it kissing, or caressing, or something even more intimate – as if it were the ultimate goal. Not orgasm, not sex, just itself. He kissed to kiss, he touched to touch. The things he did – to her, with her – were not stepping stones to some larger purpose. He did them for their own sake. 

Rae shifted and took his hands, pulling him down until his body covered hers. All of the hurt and fear and anger she had felt the other day was gone, replaced by the most indescribable feeling of… Finn. His body against hers was solid and real. Those were his lips on her lips, his hands cradling her face like it was something precious. 

She unbuttoned his flannel shirt slowly, taking her time and trying to work her cold, clumsy fingers. She pulled the shirt off his shoulders and down his arms, tossing it to the side and then wrenching his t-shirt over his head. The breeze raised gooseflesh along his arms, and trailing her lips across his chest, she felt him quiver under her mouth. Dragging her nails up his sides, she felt sure, brave, in possession of herself – Finn’s body tightened over hers at the sensation and she leaned up to kiss him again. He rocked his hips against hers and then grabbed her hands, intertwining his fingers with hers and lifting them above her head. He gently let go of her hands, tickling his fingers down her arms, her shoulders, then nudging aside her sweatshirt to nibble at her collarbone. 

He tugged at the hem of her sweatshirt. “Can I…?” 

“Yes,” she croaked. “Yes, yes…” 

Finn pulled the sweatshirt over her head, taking her t-shirt with. He reared up over her and patiently disentangled the clothing from her hair before covering her body with his again and burying his face in the swell of her breasts. Rae felt… insane. She could not pinpoint just what it was that she was feeling, but insanity was part of it. When he lifted himself up on his forearms, she shook her head dizzily and tried to pull him back. His hands crept beneath her and she arched her back, letting him unclasp her bra. There was a rushing sound in her ears, and she was certain it wasn’t just the sea.

Finn didn’t move to take her bra off just yet. He kissed her fervently; her hands moved up of their own accord to tangle in his hair and she felt her body undulating slowly under his. They kissed like that for a long, long time – slow and deep and burning kisses that left Rae with a painful, demanding need somewhere in her stomach. His hands traveled up her waist and slipped under the loosened bra. Both of them sighed when his hands found her breasts. 

Then Finn pulled that undergarment, unnecessary and unwanted now, away from her body. He planted wet little kisses along the curve of one breast before switching to the other. Rae curled her toes in a fevered kind of ecstasy, extending her legs outwards. “Finn…” He bucked his body against the burning heat between her legs and she cried out, she couldn’t help it, and the sound was swallowed up by the vast, empty sky. They were skin to skin and he was sucking at her, biting her in the most delicious way possible, but she couldn’t think about it because now his hands were grasping her hips hard. She met his eyes and then felt his fingers slide under her skirt and curl around the waistband of her leggings. This time he didn’t have to ask; she was already nodding fervently and whispering some sort of garbled nonsense at him before his fingers had even found sufficient purchase on her clothing. Finn yanked the leggings down, taking her knickers with them, and Rae kicked them away from her, desperate to free herself. Then she felt his hand move between her thighs, his fingers gliding lightly across her upper thighs and sliding up. 

“Oh, fuck,” she gasped, her eyes closing with pleasure. “Oh…”

Finn stroked her slowly, the feeling he created so marvelous that Rae could not think at all. He was moving lazily, almost not moving at all. His fingers pressed gently into her; she lifted her hips off the ground, nearly panting. She clutched the blankets in her fists and pushed herself against him, pulling him closer by his hair and shivering when his mouth brushed the hollow of her throat. 

Her fingers trembled a bit as she fumbled with his belt buckle, wrestling it open and clumsily unfastening his jeans. She slipped her hand inside and wrapped her fingers around him. Finn swore under his breath and rested his burning face against her neck as she began to move her hand. 

“Rae?” 

“Mmm?” It came out as a whimper. 

“Can I - …” 

“What?” her own voice sounded strange to her ears, high-pitched and breathy. 

“Can I… Can I use me mouth on you?” 

“What?” she half sat up in alarm. 

“Please?” He caught her bottom lip between his teeth and tugged at it gently. “I want to. I been thinkin’ about it for ages. I wanna – oh fuck, Rae, please, let me?” 

“I…”

“If you don’ like it I’ll stop, I swear I’ll stop, please Rae, let me try…” 

She nodded once, jerkily. 

Finn hooked his hands beneath her knees and spread her legs apart. Rae trembled, her face burning, as he moved down the length of her body. She felt vulnerable, exposed, but her legs seemed to be spreading wider of their own accord as Finn placed a kiss on the inside of her thigh, trailing little kisses and bites upwards, then switching to her other leg. She was quivering all over, with fear, or anticipation, or – 

Finn’s head vanished under her skirt, and with the first brush of his lips her hips jerked up violently. She was on fire, she was actually burning up, there was nothing of her body left except this burning hot core in the middle of her. His mouth was so warm against her, and the slight roughness of his stubble created the most delicious friction against her skin… Rae tightened her thighs around his head, failing to stifle a loud moan. Finn put his hands on the tops of her thighs and pulled her even closer, groaning against her flesh and sending vibrations all throughout her body. 

“Nhn…” she moaned incoherently. Finn pulled away and crawled up her body and Rae swallowed hard, tears of unfulfilled pleasure springing to her eyes. He didn’t like it, she disgusted him, he would never touch her again – … 

Finn turned her face up and then kissed her deeply, his tongue reaching almost to the back of her throat. Rae tasted something musky, tangy, earthy – 

“That’s you,” he said roughly, biting at her lips, darting his tongue out and licking her mouth once more. “Like it?” 

Rae swallowed hard again. Her whole body felt hyper-aware, sensitive, craving something - 

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” Finn was saying, rubbing his face against her breast. “I fuckin’ love ya.”

“Finn,” she said raggedly, “Please…” She was fighting with his jeans and boxers, pulling them down his hips and kicking them down his legs with her feet. 

“Rae…” he breathed.

“Yes,” she told him. “Yes, yes, yes… I need…” 

Finn seemed to know exactly what she needed. He fumbled back for his wallet, pulling something out of it – then he took her hand and guided it to him. 

“Take control,” he whispered. “You. You’re in control. I’ll help you. C’mere…” 

Rae had no idea what she was doing, she was acting on instinct alone as she took him in her hand and guided him up against her entrance. Finn’s arms were trembling with the effort of holding back, and beads of sweat dripped from his forehead on to her. He was directed, focused, every pore of his body concentrated on hers. Slowly, Rae arched her back and moved her hips against his. 

It hurt, in a way that she had never hurt before, that moment when their bodies joined for the first time. Her cheeks were wet but Finn was holding her close and breathing hotly against her neck, his moan vibrating throughout her body. He was shaping words against her skin but she had no idea what they were, only that the pain was tearing her apart, it was taking forever – but then Finn moved his hips in a gentle, languorous circle – and it was starting to feel better, good, even, and oh! that was amazing, what he did there… His hand was between her legs now, and he was touching her as he thrust against her and the sensations were becoming overpowering, so incredible she thought she might explode. Suddenly he stiffened against her, moaning her name… she didn’t come then but as he moved more and more slowly against her the waves of pleasure released her and subsided peacefully, like a tide going out. There were so few words Rae could find to describe what she felt at the end of it – ecstasy, thrill, bliss – but it was Finn and just Finn and… 

She cried out for him to stay when he started to move away, and he kissed her sweetly as he withdrew. She could have wept for the sudden feeling of loss and emptiness at being just Rae again, no longer joined with Finn, and then it hurt to move and she was crying a bit. Finn wrapped himself around her and lightly stroked her back as the ocean breeze stirred their hair, cooling them like a drop of cold water on the hottest day of the year. When she was calm again he wrapped the blankets snugly around them. Rae’s eyes began to shut involuntarily. As she drifted off, lulled by the sound of the waves, she heard her own voice, telling Finn that she loved him, and the last thing that she remembered was Finn whispering in her ear that he loved her more than anything.


	9. Just Another Story

Rae woke with the sea breeze playing gently on her face. Finn had pressed himself against her and, even in sleep, clung barnacle-like to her back with his arms clasped about her middle. She squirmed a little in the tight embrace and rolled over to bury her face in his chest. She couldn’t suppress a tiny moan at the pain the movement caused – her groin throbbed like bloody blazes and other parts of her ached too, her back where she had arched against him, her thighs where they had stretched wider than accustomed… Rae took a careful inventory of her body and found nothing else amiss. Well, her extremities tingled a bit and her heart was going fast again, but that was because Finn had sighed a little in his sleep and she felt his breath tickling her ear. He smelled like perspiration and something else she couldn’t quite place. She darted out her tongue and tasted his salty skin. 

She wanted to go back to sleep, tried to moderate her heartbeat to his and find the lull of that easy rhythm they shared, but a bubble of hilarity kept rising in her throat. She wanted to laugh aloud, or – or run a whole bloody fucking marathon on the energy that was suddenly coursing through her veins. She, Rachel Earl, despite being sixteen stone and having an arse the size of Australia, had just lost her virginity to the fittest bloke in Lincolnshire. It seemed like there ought to be a press release. And Finn, bless him, was still sound asleep, unaware of the victory dance taking place just inches away from him. 

Finn, for his part, was dreaming about Rae. It happened to him sometimes, that when he fell asleep after something momentous occurred, he’d dream about it, but through a sort of refracted, fun house mirror. Like, right now, still dreaming, he was with Rae, but they were in some great blooming field, with tall grass and dandelions. She was naked, and so was he, and they were moving together on the ground. The world was spinning, the sun glinting on her skin, and it felt like something was trying to force its way out of his chest. He clung to her as tightly as he could and for a moment everything went completely still before exploding in a rush of colour and sound. The world was falling down around them and he held her, feeling so fucking scared. He wished it would all burn away, leaving him and her alone in their private kingdom. 

Rae felt Finn growing hard against her leg. She peeped up at him from beneath her lashes and saw he was still asleep. Then he moaned faintly, and Rae didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or aroused by the spectacle he was making of himself. Aroused won out. She darted under the blanket covering them and took his nipple in her mouth, giving it a devious bite. 

Finn yelped and sat bolt upright. He looked around in confusion before locating the blanketed lump next to him. “Ya bit me!” he exclaimed. “Saucy little…” He tried to pull her out but Rae refused to be found, holding the blanket over her head and giggling madly. Finn let out a huff of laughter and then burrowed under the blanket to join her, pulling it over both their heads. It was dark under the blanket and even the sea sounded further off. Just their faint breathing and the dim outlines of each other. They stopped laughing at the same moment, as if they’d agreed on it, and then Finn drew her face close to his. “You alright?” he whispered. 

“Think so,” Rae whispered back, matching his solemn tone. “All me bits are still in order.” 

“Did it hurt bad?” 

“Just at the start. Then it felt…” Even though it was too dark to see anything, she knew she was blushing. “It felt brilliant.” 

“You…” He struggled for words. “Ya looked lovely. When we was together. I never wanted to stop lookin’ at ya, the way ya looked –”

“Best get your eyes checked, then,” she said tartly. 

She knew immediately it was the wrong thing to say, but she couldn’t take it back and Finn was already pulling away from her. “An’ now ya go tell me how ugly ya are.” He sounded defeated. “An’ I tell ya that ya ain’t, an’ then –”

“Finn. I was joking. Havin’ a laugh. Remember what that is, yeah?” 

“’S’not funny when you talk like that. I fuckin’ hate it.” 

“I feel pretty when I’m with you,” she offered. “You make me feel pretty.” 

“Y’are pretty,” Finn insisted. He rolled towards her and his lips collided with her jaw. “Pretty.” He kissed her throat. “An’ this.” Then her shoulder. “An’ this –” Rae fumbled for him and seized him by the hair, dragging him towards her and crashing her lips against his. 

Finn loved it when Rae took control like that, gripping his shoulders so hard. He hoped there would be bruises, because then, like after the first time he’d used his fingers on her, she would lie in bed next to him and kiss each little crescent mark she’d dug into his skin. Then he’d feel the warm rush of her breath against his cheek and hear I’m sorry, I’m sorry, not that she had anything to be sorry about, he just liked the husky rasp of her voice in his ear. 

She wanted to have another go, then and there, but Finn was afraid it would hurt too much. He wrapped himself around her and nibbled her ear until she squirmed and smacked him. There was something terribly erotic about the feel of their naked bodies pressed together, the blanket soft against their skin. Finn’s hands roamed across her body – 

Then there was a long, low groan, and they looked at each other but it hadn’t come from either of them. They popped their heads from under the blanket to see an old man standing a few feet away, watching with undisguised interest. 

“Oi!” Finn said as Rae, blushing scarlet, clutched the blanket to her chest. “D’you mind?” Finn bellowed, as the old codger showed no sign of moving on. “We’re not givin’ a show here.” 

“Ahhh,” the man sighed, sounding more like he was dying. He flashed them a toothless smile and Rae, mortified, dove back under the blanket. He hobbled along his way, occasionally pausing to glance back at them. Finn gave two fingers to his retreating back and scrambled back into his jeans. “Right,” he said. “Time to go, eh?” 

Rae moaned in embarrassment. She stumbled into her clothes, which were damp and covered with sand. She was a proper mess, and the familiar wave of anxiety began to pulse in her stomach as she watched Finn pack up their things. Just a bit ago, they had been so close, closer than ever before, wrapped up in each other, and the look in Finn’s eyes, boring into hers, right before he came – and now he was all business, folding up the blanket, brushing off the urn… She felt remote, far away, and hated herself for feeling so. When had she grown so needy that Finn only had to look away, or busy himself with something, and she would convince herself he was losing interest? Determinedly, she started up the hill ahead of him. She had almost reached the road when Finn caught up with her, bumping her shoulder. “What’s ya hurry?” He caught her hand in his and squeezed. There was that knowing looking in his eyes that told her he intuited something of what she was thinking. “I really fuckin’ love ya,” he told her. 

It was the third time he’d said it to her. Rae grinned. “Third time’s the charm,” she said, quite in spite of herself. “Charm for what?” Finn said. 

They walked slowly back towards the car. Rae tried not to cling to Finn’s hand like it was her only lifeline. Relax, she commanded herself. He just said he loved you. For the third time. What more d’you want? Get it together. 

A small child in a dirty jumper staggered out of the grass, bawling at the top of her lungs. Rae could make out “Mummeeee” amidst the wails and turned to Finn in astonishment. “What do we do?” 

A car was coming towards them from the other direction. “Get her out of the middle of the road, I reckon,” said Finn. He went over to the kid and tried to take her hand, but she tugged away and sobbed all the harder. Shrugging, Finn picked her up, a bit awkwardly, not really sure how to distribute the weight, and carried her back to Rae. The car passed them, and a middle-aged woman looked at them disapprovingly from her window. “What, does she think it’s ours?” Rae said indignantly. “Where’s the parents?” 

There wasn’t anyone to be seen. Rae kept a nervous eye on the child as Finn went back to the beach and scanned up and down the bluff for anyone who looked like they might have lost their daughter. But there wasn’t another person in sight, and the sun was going down. 

“She’s still crying,” Rae said, helplessly, as Finn returned. 

“Said anything?” 

“Not yet.” 

“Shouldn’t you make her stop? Or summat?”

“Finn, just ‘cos I’m a girl, doesn’t mean I know what to do with kids!” Rae said grumpily. “I’m rubbish with them, actually.” 

“Fucksake,” Finn muttered. He approached the crying child and knelt down in front of her so their heads were level. “What’s your name?” he asked. 

Unintelligible sobs. He tried again. “I’m Finn.” 

“I’m called Maisie.” 

Progress. “Maisie. That’s a, er, nice name, isn’t it?” He looked back at Rae, who was watching with an amused expression. “That’s Rae.” Rae waved awkwardly, making no move to help him. She’d never been much for kids, his Rae, and it seemed like this one was on him. He used his sleeve to mop some of the tears and snot off Maisie’s face, though the flow seemed to have lightened considerably. “Where’s your mum, Maisie?” 

“Lost.” 

“Your mum got lost?” 

A nod. The wide blue eyes were still swimming with tears. 

“How old’re you?” 

Maisie held up four fingers. 

“Four! That’s a, er, nice age.” Christ, he was shit at this. “I’m seventeen, and Rae’s sixteen.” 

“Old,” Maisie observed. 

“Yeah, real old. Um…” Finn thought. He’d never been particularly fond of the rozzers, but now he figured they’d better find one stat. There was bound to be a cop station in town… 

Maisie tugged at the ring in his earlobe. “Mum has this,” she said. 

“Yeah, but mine is different ‘cos I only wear one,” Finn tried to explain, while Rae snorted behind him. 

“Just like your mum,” Rae said, apparently ready to help out now that she’d had a joke at his expense. “We’ve got to take her into the town, Finn. You said there’s a town nearby, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Finn turned back to the kid. “Maisie, we’re gonna walk into town to find yer mum, alright?” 

“Find mum?” 

“Yeah.” 

“What’s in there?” Maisie asked, pointing at the empty urn Finn was holding under his arm. 

“My Nan was in there.” Rae nudged him urgently. Shit. Kids and death weren’t a good combination. 

“She lived in there?” Maisie asked. 

“Yeah… sort of.” 

“Not ‘nymore?” 

“Nah. She moved out.” 

“She’s got a much bigger place now,” Rae said. 

“Walk into town, then?” Finn was trying to move things along. 

“No walk.” 

“C’mon, Maisie, it’s not far –”

“Don’ wanna!” There was a flash of temper in those enormous blue eyes. “Don’ wanna walk!” 

“Alright, alright…” 

Maisie raised her arms. 

“You want me to carry you?” 

A nod.

“Really?”

Another nod. He looked at Rae, who shook her head, looking amused. “Go on, then,” she said, sounding like she was suppressing a laugh. 

“Right, then.” Finn wrapped his arms around her middle and hoisted her up onto his hip, like he’d seen the mums do at the supermarket, but Maisie squirmed away. “Thought you wanted me to carry you.” She pointed at his shoulder. “Up there?” Rae wasn’t even trying to suppress her giggles anymore, obviously enjoying the right arse he was making of himself, playing dad. Finn lifted the kid high over his head and settled her on his shoulders. She crowed with delight. With her legs clamped tight about his neck, Finn hoped that she was past the nappy-wearing age. 

He handed Rae the urn and took her free hand in his as they set off down the road. Their eyes met and she grinned, also imagining the sight they made. A weird sort of family, except the kid wasn’t theirs and the parents weren’t yet legal. Finn was glad Rae wasn’t getting all misty-eyed over the situation. Another girl would have cooed and simpered about how sweet this all was, but Rae was even more incompetent than he was. 

“Are you married?” Maisie asked, apparently in a fine mood now that she’d gotten the perch she wanted.

“No way!” Rae exclaimed. Embarrassed, she amended. “We’re still quite young.” 

“Are you…” Maisie made kissing noises over Finn’s head. He decided to let Rae field that one. 

“Er, yeah. We are,” said Rae. 

“Ewwwww,” said Maisie. 

“Quite right,” said Finn, winking at Rae. 

“Love?” Maisie asked. 

“Yep,” Finn said firmly. Rae looked at him warmly. 

The kid continued to chatter in her bright, bubbling voice until they reached the outskirts of the small town. The first shop was a chemist’s, looking in need of a good coat of paint. “We’ll ask in here, yeah?” Finn said. 

The inside was every bit as dingy as the façade, and they wandered through the dusty aisles until they found an old bloke half-dozing at the till. “Have a good ‘un,” he said vaguely to the man ahead of them who’d been buying cigarettes, and then gave every impression of going back to sleep. 

“’Scuse me,” Rae said. 

“Whatchoo want?” he said testily. 

“We found her –” Maisie waved merrily from Finn’s shoulders – “by herself on the road. Where’s the station at? We’ll take her there.” 

“Down Main Street, hang a left at St Peter’s,” he grunted. “Can’t miss it.” 

“Thanks,” Rae said. 

Maisie grabbed Finn by the ears and made him her pony as they walked back through the aisles. “You’re a right good horsey, you are,” Rae said, and Finn stuck his tongue out her, childishly, because he figured he’d better not curse in front of a kid. The dark haired man who’d been buying cigarettes held the door for them. Finn muttered thanks and they were halfway down the block before Rae gripped his arm, her nails digging into his skin. 

“Ouch! What?” Rae’s face was pale and excited. “What, Rae?” 

She stopped them and pointed at the man’s retreating back with a trembling finger. 

“What about ‘im?” 

“Finn, that was – I think – I think that was Joe Strummer.” 

“What?” Finn said. “What the fuck’d he be doing in Lincolnshire?” 

“Fuck!” Maisie sang. 

“Shh, Maisie, no, don’t say that. Rae, are you sure?” 

“Think so,” she breathed. “Finn…” 

“Fuckin’ hell. Fuckin’ hell.” There was a knot of giddy excitement in his stomach. There was no one, no one, Finn looked up to more than Joe Strummer. If he could only take one band with him to the proverbial desert island, it’d be the Clash. If he could’ve picked one famous person to meet, for all his purported disdain of celebrity, he’d pick Joe Strummer. Finn hadn’t given a rat’s arse for politics and society and shit before he’d started listening closely to Strummer’s lyrics, eventually transcribing as many as he could in notebooks littered with doodles and chord progressions. He’d ripped pictures out of old NMEs and even had a brief, best-forgotten mohawk phase inspired by Strummer’s look circa Combat Rock. And something else, something that he’d never told anyone and couldn’t imagine ever telling anyone except possibly Rae and only then if they were properly pissed, had to do with sex. A few years ago he’d spent hours listening to the lyrics of “Lover’s Rock” off London Calling, and when he met Chop later at the chippy they’d got into an epic argument about what it meant. 

“S’about head,” Chop had said authoritatively. “Oral sex. An’ the bird bein’ a bad sport an’ not swallowing. See? ‘She forgot that thing that she had to swallow.’” 

“Nah, mate, I don’t think that’s it,” Finn argued. “Joe’s sayin’ you’ve gotta treat your girl right, like –”

“Yeah, so’s she gives ya head,” Chop said. 

“No, he’s sayin’ that blokes don’t know how to give a girl a good time anymore.” He had then proceeded to quote the second verse of the song, verbatim: 

“You Western man, you’re free with your seed  
When you make lover’s rock  
But whoops! There goes the strength that you need  
To make real cool lovers rock  
‘Cos a genuine lover takes off his clothes  
And he can make a lover in a thousand go’s  
An’ she don’t need that thing that she had to swallow.” 

Chop looked impressed, and Finn took advantage of the temporary silence to pursue his argument. “Joe’s sayin’ that men are selfish, like they blow their load too soon before the girl’s had any fun. He’s sayin’ that it should be romantic, or summat, so that everyone has a good time. An’ it’s all about jimmies too,” he added, as Chop smirked at him. “Like, if you’ve got a jimmy, then she doesn’t have to take the pill, an’ then there’s a better chance she won’t get pregnant, see?” 

“I dunno.” Chop shook his head. “Still reckon it’s about a blowjob. If you’re Joe fuckin’ Strummer, they’re linin’ up for ya anyway.” 

“I read somewhere,” Finn said casually, though in fact he’d done a fair amount of research in the old Rolling Stone magazines archived at the library (“I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Finn, going to the library,” his mum had exclaimed) and actually found an article where Joe talked about the song, “that it’s about good sex. Apparently Western blokes don’t know how to do it, but they do in Asia.” Joe had come across a book of Eastern philosophy on love and sex, and said it was a good one to get if you were a boy trying to be a man and learning to pleasure a woman more. Or something. Finn never had the balls to actually track down whatever book Strummer was talking about, but at fifteen Finn decided he was going to follow Joe’s advice and give as good as he got, or better. 

“Asia?” Chop looked sceptical. “I dunno, I don’t reckon I need Asia. I can have five orgasms in a row, if I want.” 

But the next year, when Finn started having sex, he kept it in mind. He was good at reading his partners, good at knowing when they were close, good at knowing when they were faking, and, ultimately, good at getting them off. Even when it didn’t mean anything, even when it was just because he was bored and randy, Finn tried to make the effort Joe demanded of him. And it paid off, ‘cos the girls actually wanted to have sex with him. That surprised him at first, when Archie reported he’d heard a group of girls gossiping about what a brilliant fuck Finn Nelson was. But Finn never told Chop that he attributed much of his apparent sexual prowess to Joe Strummer, because that might be weird. Not poofy, exactly, but weird. 

Even more important (in Finn’s mind, at least) was how much of his encyclopaedic knowledge of music he owed to Joe. He’d never have known much about reggae, or dub, or funk, or anything beyond those gobshite Gallagher brothers if the Clash hadn’t brought all those elements into their music and made him want to explore where it all came from. He looked up the music Joe mentioned in interviews, and he disdained the Sex Pistols and all those other bands that sang about the end of the world. He was a grumpy sod, Finn, but he reckoned it was mostly due to Joe that he hadn’t become just another angry yobbo like Big G and all the rest who littered the streets of England. 

And now Rae said Joe Strummer was the bloke buying cigarettes who’d held the door for them and was now walking down the street. He felt overwhelmed. “What do we do?” he said, stupidly. 

“Go after him, of course,” Rae said. She set off after him and Finn followed, Maisie bumping along on his shoulders. They moved as quickly as they could, but what with all their paraphernalia and Maisie’s shrieks of delight that her “horsey” had picked up the pace, they made a fair amount of ruckus. The man slowed his pace and turned around. 

Finn’s heart leapt into his throat. It was definitely him. He’d have known that face, those funny elfin ears, anywhere. But as always, his stupid voice betrayed him, scuttling off somewhere and leaving him speechless, unable to make a sound let alone articulate all the sentiments, the gratitude, that wanted to burst out of him. But Rae, despite stammering with nerves and flushing scarlet, managed better. “Thanks for getting the door for us.” She wanted to smack herself for saying something so stupid, but it was all that came out. 

“Yeah, sure. Kid an’ all.” It was the voice Finn knew from all the records, better than he knew his own voice. 

“I know it’s really rude to bother you, and I’m really sorry, it’s just that we – I know we shouldn’t talk to you –”

“You can talk to whoever you want. I ain’t gonna tell you otherwise. I’m Joe.” And he actually stuck his hand out at her. Rae’s hand was shaking as much as her voice when she took it. “I’m Rae. And that’s Finn.” All Finn managed was a wave and a sort of hoarse grunt; he looked stricken. 

“An’ who’s that, then?” Strummer indicated Maisie, who waved merrily from Finn’s shoulders. “She yours?” 

“No, Christ no, that’s Maisie,” Rae said. “We found her, she’s lost her mum so we’re taking her to the station.” 

“Alright, Maisie?” Strummer said. Maisie beamed at him, and then said, quite clearly, “Fuck.” Strummer snorted and lit up. “You teach her that?”

“Not on purpose,” Rae said. She could feel Finn next to her, positively quivering with tension. “Finn’s not much for speaking, but he, you know…” Finn turned red and she trailed off. 

“Who’s in there?” Joe gestured at the urn with his fag. 

“My nan. Used to be,” Finn managed. 

“You let her out?” 

Finn nodded. 

“That’s proper. I’d want the same. Not underground or in a jar, but out an’ about.” He gave them the once-over. “You together?” 

Finn nodded. 

Rae didn’t think she could bear it if this man, someone Finn looked up to more than his own father, reacted with derision or scepticism. How could a fucking rockstar ever imagine her as anything more than a solitary weirdo in a band shirt? The kind who clung to music because she was too shit, too ugly, for the real world. That small, miserable part of her rose up and she went into panicked overdrive. “I know it’s funny, him bein’ with me. They give us shit, the kids from school do. ‘Cos he’s fit and good at sport and I’m, you know, like this. Even my best mate doesn’t get it, not really, but Finn and me, we’re both music-mad and I’m better at talking, y’know? But sometimes we just listen to music, like for hours and hours, and you’re his favourite, we listen to you all the time, and none of it matters.” She came to a halt. That was more than she’d said to Kester at their first session. What the fuck was she doing? 

Strummer lit another cigarette from the glowing tip of the first. “The kids at your school, they got no idea what they’re talkin’ about and they got no right to tell who you can be or who you can be with,” he pronounced. 

Rae looked at him, wonderingly. 

But he wasn’t finished. “Way I see it, you keep on doin’ what you want to do. Show those cunts you ain’t goin’ to back down or make out like you’re worse than you are. You’re better’n that, it’s obvious, and I tell you what else, you got Joe Strummer to back you up.” 

Rae’s eyes filled, but Joe, kindly, pretended not to notice. He turned to Finn. “An’ what about you? What ‘ave you got to say for yourself?” 

“I’m shit with speaking,” Finn said, balling his hands into fists and digging his nails into his palms. Perspiration was gathering around his hairline and he was trying, as hard as he’d ever tried in his life, to make himself understood. “I dunno. I wish I was more like you. Good with talking. S’like I got no fucking clue, sometimes, what I’m doing. I stand down after this year, and…” Maisie began to squirm and Strummer lifted her down into his own arms, letting her play with his shirt collar. 

“When I finished school I didn’t have a fuckin’ clue either,” he said. “All the choices looked like shit, an’ I was an arrogant little berk, didn’t like anythin’ they was tellin’ me to do. Got into art school an’ everything, wasted a whole year there doin’ whatever the fuck I wanted. ‘Cept art, of course. Never did much. Best advice I got is, keep lookin.’ If you see something that gets you, go after it, an’ if you don’t, keep tryin’ new things. Everyone these days is so worried about movin’ a hundred miles an hour, thinkin’ they know exactly what they want. What I say, why not start by lookin’ at where you want to be now? You’ve got her” – he nodded at Rae – “so clearly you’re doin’ somethin’ right.” 

Rae blushed; Finn smiled despite his bashfulness. “Sometimes I think, if I got anything right, it’s ‘cos of you,” he said, looking down at his boots. “I owe a lot to ya.” 

“That’s proper decent of you, mate, but I think you oughta give yourself the credit.” Strummer looked at the sun, which had nearly set. “It’s gettin’ late. Got to find the wife an’ kids. I’ll take this ‘un, too, take her down to the station to find her mum.”

“Oh no, we couldn’t inconvenience you,” Rae protested. “S’fine, we can do it.” 

“Nah, I’ve got ‘er,” Strummer said. “You two ain’t got kids. I’m used to ‘em.” He shifted Maisie to his hip and held out his hand. “Rae an’ Finn, thanks for talkin’ with me. Were a real pleasure.” They took his hand in turn, Finn’s hands shaking harder than Rae’s. 

“Fuck,” Maisie said, by way of parting. Strummer gave them his crooked smile and had already started to lope off when Finn found his voice. “Wait!” he said. Strummer turned. “Would you…” he fumbled through his pockets. Nothing. Shit. “Would you sign… me arm?” 

“Course I can,” Strummer said. “Got a pen?” 

Rae managed to extricate a sharpie from her bag. Finn shrugged out of his jacket and rolled up his sleeve. Strummer put Maisie down and bent over Finn’s arm. “Got a favourite song?” 

“’Death or Glory,’” Finn said. “Nah, wait. ‘Cheapskates.’ Shit, no, all of ‘em. ‘White Man in –’ I dunno. Surprise me.” 

Afterwards, Finn twisted around to get a good look at his bicep. 

“What’s it say?” Rae demanded, torn between inspecting the signature and watching Strummer walk away, silhouetted against the setting sun with Maisie on his shoulders. 

He’d drawn a small figure smashing a guitar, like Simmo on the cover of London Calling. Above, he’d written step lightly – stay free and below signed his name. 

“I’m gettin’ this inked,” Finn said hoarsely. “First chance I get.” 

He and Rae looked at each other. “Think I owe that one to you,” Finn said, voice still unsteady. “’S’like I live in another dimension, when I’m with ya. Give us a kiss, quick.”


End file.
